Distorted Perception
by DB2020
Summary: Vincent suffers from Hojo's abuse and experiments. Mysterious and alluring, the disturbed soul catches the eye of more than one man. CloudxVincent
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: **This story contains mature content and adult themes. Abuse and rape are key themes to Vincent's past, so if you're not comfortable with it then this isn't the story for you. Also, it is a yaoi coupling, so if that is also not your thing, then please do not blame me for any distress you have when reading it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Final Fantasy VII is the property of its rightful creators at Square Enix. I have borrowed the characters and world and the storyline. There are some alterations I've made for my own purposes, and I will be developing the characters to my liking, but they still belong to Square Enix.

Also, note that I've diverged from the game storyline. Cat Sithe is not present and Aeris does not die. The final battle is quite different than that in the game and I plan to take whatever liberties I feel will benefit the story to my telling.

Chapter One

Around the Campfire

The unlikely band of heroes sat around the fire as they settled down before turning in for the night. The sky was cloudless, full of stars and a sliver of the moon. The atmosphere was a little repressed as they all felt the end drawing near. Then again, with each step they took and move they made, the companions had the general mindset that the final battle was around the next corner. It had been quite some time since they'd begun to expect a final confrontation. They were almost used to it.

No one knew how things would turn out, they could only hope and believe they had the power to defeat Sephiroth.

Cloud had become slightly introverted in his manner as of late, though his arrogant air was long gone. As the group's leader, he had matured a great deal. They had been through too much together to not have all matured at least a little. Even Yuffie, in her happy-go-lucky and carefree personality had grown a tad solemn lately. At least, she'd stopped stealing everyone's possessions, for the time being.

One person, who didn't seem to be affected at all by the looming darkness, was Vincent.

There wasn't much anyone in the group knew about Vincent Valentine. For all they could tell, he was an undead vampire. Common sense, however, told them he was human, maybe. Quiet and reclusive, he kept to himself, even in the most perilous of circumstances. He relied on no one. Not even Cloud, in his commanding and leader role, could pry a word out of the man.

What a shock it had been, to chance upon that coffin in the mansion. An experiment of Hojo's was surely to be as horrific in appearance as Sephiroth was in his madness. And yet, after that lid was removed, each member felt a confused awe settle in. Layered in folds of cloth and that thick red cloak, only hints of the thin and slender frame could be detected beneath. Silky raven hair, falling past his shoulders, and bound loosely with that red headband. While his face usually remained hidden behind his long dark hair and high collar, some of them had distinctly seen him in the moments before he became conscious on that day. Pale white skin, smooth as marble. His eyes were but fringes of dark lashes, gently resting on his creamy cheeks in silent slumber. Soft red lips, motionless as he slept, they looked warm, as though he hadn't been sleeping for the past thirty years. His delicate facial features made them all wonder at his sex, there was something entirely androgynous about Vincent, even now.

Perhaps the greatest surprise of all was when he stirred, opening his eyes. Those deep crimson eyes, which seemed to change every so often, perhaps betraying an emotion beneath that well maintain countenance.

Though standing tall at six foot, it hardly seemed to factor in, when the rest of him was so utterly conflicting. He was a living conflict of traits. With his gleaming metal claw, and holstered guns, he was a fierce warrior. The Chaos within him was such a surge of rage and emotion, which was never shown in the man himself. But, when he wasn't in battle, he was like a silent angel, fallen from the heavens and carrying a sorrowful burden, which they could only guess at.

As far as they knew, from the bits and pieces contributed willingly, or whimpered in his nightmarish sleep, he was suffering from a twisted past. No one could claim to be his confident, since he never spoke openly. But, they had gathered that he had been in love with a woman named Lucrecia. Lucrecia they knew was the former wife of the mad scientist, Dr. Hojo. And, if rumors were true, Sephiroth was the odd couple's son.

From what they found out about Hojo he was an insane lunatic who cared nothing for human lives. Red XIII held no secret of the fact that he wanted revenge on the man, and from Vincent's seeming approval of the cat like creature's goal, they could only guess the scientist had crossed more than one member of the group.

Cloud lay on his back, much as Cid did, looking up at the stars and mulling facts and plans over in his head. More than once, he'd sought advice from the dark haired gunman, seeking the voice of reason and collected thoughts. There were times, when asking Barret, Cid, or Tifa just didn't work. Like the man he was before assisting Avalanche, they were a bit hot headed and tended to devise more offensive tactics. And Yuffie, Red XIII, and Aeris just weren't tactically savvy. During their quest, there were a few times when rushing into things was not the best idea, and Vincent came in handy for those times.

In battle Vincent could be the most erratic and unpredictable of them all, but the rest of the time, he was solemn and thoughtful, and smart. He always had sound advice for Cloud, though he never ventured to offer it freely. In that respect, Vincent was entirely willing to be lead, never speaking up or voicing his opinions, not even when asked. However, if Cloud approached him in all seriousness, Vincent would return the favor of respect and speak with Cloud.

It was during their few meetings to discuss their next move when Vincent spoke the most. Though hardly more than a handful of sentences, the spiky haired swordsman suspected it was the most he spoke to anyone.

Naturally Cloud would be the person Vincent spoke to most, since he was the leader. This was common sense in the blond fighter didn't need to read any further into the matter.

Vincent was their most recent addition, and while he hadn't been with them long, and didn't assimilate with the group, he was a part of their team as much as anyone else was. Cold and distant, they couldn't help but accept him for who he was. If nothing else, he was pleasing to look at and a great addition to their force.

Even Cid didn't joust him as often as he did everyone else. And, oddly, when the pilot did rant strings of insults or offending comments, they lacked in meaning and came off as nothing more than familiarizing banter.

Yuffie was positively dying to know Vincent better. Her thieving background and nosy personality gave the young girl a knack for prying. Though, she always meant well, she was beginning to become restless and willing to do anything to find out all his secrets.

No one could be certain Vincent had any secrets in the first place, but his personality screamed as much to each of them. Yuffie was perhaps the only person who couldn't handle the curiosity. While everyone put it aside in light of more pressing matters, Yuffie often found herself staring at the expressionless face, wondering at its beauty and pondering what went on in that head of the red eyed gunner.

The longhaired brunette, Tifa, stared into the fire, dazed in thought. Watching the flames dance, her eyes eventually focused on what lay beyond. There, sitting across from her, in the circular band, slightly more on the outside than anyone else, was Vincent. His knees were huddled to his chest casually, while his head rested comfortably. She thought his eyes were closed, but couldn't be sure since most of his face was obscured.

Briefly, Tifa wondered why he didn't just turn in for the night, as he was obviously tired. But, she was glad that he seemed to have some response to the way they functioned. They all spent much of their down time together, and that included the evenings of leisure and rest. Usually, the ruby-eyed man was a mere shadow in their presence and gone once the job was over. Although, he still didn't talk to them, he was at least with them now.

Lost in reverie, the kickboxing fighter let her eyes focus on Vincent's huddled form. They were all reluctant heroes. No one wanted the bloodshed or tears. None of them had asked for the lives they now lead. Still, they were all determined, in their own way, to end it all and bring peace back to the world, even if that world was poor and wretched from the abuse it had undergone.

It seemed to Tifa, that Sephiroth had a similar goal, of ending the destructive chaos that reigned under ShinRa. Only the silver haired warrior intended to destroy the world all together, believing it to be beyond repair.

As if her gaze bore into him, the soft raven hair of their companion stirred as he raised his head. Though his left eye was in the shadow of his headband, she could see a glint off it from the fire. His deep crimson eyes locked on hers, as if acknowledging her focus on him.

Blushing, Tifa turned her head quickly, knowing it was too late, but unable to continue staring. If only there was way to stare at him openly without being obvious.

Vincent felt weary, after a long day of fighting and walking. He was ready to curl up and fall into a forcefully induced dreamless sleep. Lately, he had found a way to use healing Materia to let him sleep without his subconscious getting the better of him. Thus far, he'd only done it twice, and only after particularly brutal days. Only when he truly needed a serious rest. Now, he thought it unnecessary. He deserved the nightmares that plagued him constantly. They were part of his atonement. To use this newfound method flippantly would be a disgrace and only make his sins worse.

Slowly, he nodded off, resting his head against his knee. It wasn't necessary to be on guard when surrounded by the rest of the group. Although, he never let his guard down completely, always ready to jump into action, he did find himself welcoming the heavy lidded drowsiness.

It was then he felt eyes upon him. This was nothing new. Ever since he joined resistance faction, in hopes of exacting revenge on Hojo, he knew they always stared at him. And, he couldn't blame them. Within him was a grotesque beast, which seemed to have manifested in his human form. Everyone stared at a wild beast, a freak show for the audience. He didn't complain, because it was to be expected. Instead, he was grateful that they kept insults and other such comments to themselves. They even tolerated his isolated silence. It was rare for any of them to demand his participation other than in battle. For this he was most grateful, and would extend his thanks after they had completed their mission.

Honestly, he was a man of few qualms, other than the sins he carried and disdain he held for himself and Hojo, he found little to complain about among his 'friends'. At first he had simply humored the idea of being a part of their group. His intentions were purely self-serving, using them as a means to an end. But, as time had past, short as it might have been since he first joined up, he was slowly incorporated and entwined with their fate.

Now, he would do everything in his power to help them, not just because it would invariably mean Hojo's demise, but because of their determination and resolve to save humanity.

The moment he had felt the darkness lift, he'd hardly believed it. Thirty years of a frozen stasis, his mind drifting and repenting for his misdeeds, had given him a feeling of despair. He had come to believe his fate was sealed and his life was condemned to an eternity of darkness and loneliness, riddled with relived horrors from his past.

Then, one day, he'd felt a rush of cool air, musty and heavy with Mako energy used from long ago. Fresh by no means, it was still an open breeze, and the first signal that he was no longer a captive of the darkness. The Chaos within him forever raged at his fate, telling him that he needn't repent for a damn thing, and that he should be exacting revenge.

This was the battle and rift in his mind. The monster within him, the monster that he had become, willed him to fight and hunt Hojo down. The man in him, believed his life of tragedy and loss was his own fault, and for which he deserved the dark fate of lonely solitude, forever entrapped in the coffin.

This battle raged wildly every moment he held conscious thought. Upon being released from his thirty years of confinement, his eyes had drift open to find the blue luminescent eyes of Cloud Strife. His freedom had been right before him, he needed have only pushed past the group and follow every whim Chaos felt. He could have run and hunted the scientist down to avenge Lucrecia. But, his other half had spoken up, saying he deserved this sorrow, and must not harbor such dishonorable thoughts as escaping.

Unable to decide his own actions, he'd remained frozen and confused. His eyes wandered the room, landing on each person. They'd all stared at him wide-eyed, and it had taken him a moment to realize why. He was a hideous monster, the embodiment of darkness and all that was horrific.

Slightly crestfallen at this remembrance, his eyes and head had fallen downward, ashamed at the creature he was. It had been that moment when he saw his claw, perhaps the most symbolic feature of the demon within.

Hojo had been right to seal him away. And, yet, he couldn't forgive the madman for what he'd done to Lucrecia. Vincent didn't know what he'd done to deserve his fate. Considering the pain and torture the madman had put him through, it must have been something terrible. But, Lucrecia didn't deserve her fate, and for that Vincent wanted revenge.

Wary of the group that had stood before him, his internal struggle had raged as the spiky haired man spoke to him.

Vincent had kept his eyes averted, knowing he would only see disgust and fear on everyone's face. His uncertainty had wavered back and forth, as he would decide on staying in the coffin and resuming his punishment, but then decide to go with the band and seek Hojo out.

Eventually, Chaos had won and he'd joined them, if only to find Hojo.

In the end, he could always return to the mansion and place himself back into darkness. Yes, this was a plan he'd been mulling over for some time. When Hojo was dead, and Sephiroth killed, the world would be saved and he would return to the mansion and continue his punishment. Lucrecia would be avenged and he could then freely atone for his sins. Perhaps, he'd be lucky enough to find out what he'd done in the first place, maybe Hojo would take pity on him, and tell him why he was such a monster and what he'd done to earn his fate.

That was all Vincent could hope for, to know the reason for his fate that was worse than death and for Chaos to rest within him knowing justice was served on Lucrecia's behalf.

These were Vincent's sleepy thoughts, as he rested his head. He understood his comrades' stares, and he accepted it.

When the eyes he felt upon him did not waver, he became curious as to who it was this time. Lifting his head, he found a pair of dark sultry eyes gaze into his. Tifa was just on the other side of the fire, staring at him. Presently she turned her head and blushed. He couldn't help but wonder why she felt, perhaps, embarrassed at staring at him. Surely she understood that it was to be expected. There was nothing wrong with ogling a freak show such as him, for this too was a part of his fate.

Sighing inwardly, Vincent resigned himself to replaying past events in his mind. After seeing Tifa turn from him, he felt a prick of guilt, and that had woken him up, even if he still felt tired.

He didn't know what was worse, the flash backs he had while he was awake or the nightmares of his unconscious. When asleep it all seemed so real, as if it were happening all over again. But, when he was awake, he had his mind to contend with, pointing out how he was deserving of such torture and pain. It was perhaps more difficult to consciously relive the events, since he couldn't wake up and sooth it over as a mere dream.

Flashing before his eyes were images of so many years ago. These images danced in the flames of their campfire, becoming animate and real.

The moment he saw Lucrecia his heart skipped a beat. Dr. Hojo had escorted Vincent inside the mansion and in the main entrance he stood just inside the doorway. The wide staircase ascended to a wall bearing a large glass window. There, he saw her figure. Wearing a light blue dress, long silver hair braided down her back. The glowing light shining in from behind, she stood gloriously silhouetted. Slowly she had made her descent, coming to greet him. In her arms she carried a white lab coat, which she swung on with practiced ease, as though the garment were a part of her.

Her delicate hand was extended to him, and he hesitated in awe to shake it. Her smile lit the room, if possible, even brighter.

Formal introductions were made, and he was informed that she was Hojo's wife, and partner in scientific research. From the moment he watched the husband and wife interact, he'd known something was awry. Hojo did not strike him as a man deserving of such a delicate beauty as his wife was. And, after his first few weeks of watchful guarding, he'd come to realize they didn't match up in more than one way.

Vincent had never been allowed to see their work, or experiments. He didn't need to, that wasn't his job. He was there to protect them from prying eyes, jealous backstabbing, and political attacks. Apparently they were working on top-notch stuff, something intricate and dealing with ShinRa and Mako energy. Regardless, he just needed to keep enemies away and the two scientists safe.

He failed miserably in his job. Not only had he fallen in love with a married woman, but he had also partaken in an illicit affair with her. Much of his memory was a blur, as a result of two versions of the tale. There were his own memories and then those Hojo supplied him with. He could remember distinctly up until the night Lucrecia snuck into his quarters and informed him she was pregnant. From there his memories pretty much revolved around what Hojo told him during their sessions together.

All he knew, though didn't remember on his own, was that he had been caught and taken captive by Hojo. There was no fighting the drugs the man slipped him. His days were then spent strapped down in a lab. Time passed in a manner that he couldn't keep track of, between being awake and being knocked out, from the drugs constantly administered.

Eventually, it was revealed to him, that Lucrecia had died giving birth, to what Hojo claimed was his son. But, the insane scientist was the furthest from a caring father, and chose to use his son in a new experiment, that dealt with someone called Jenova.

Hojo revealed that it was the birth, which killed Lucrecia. For that, Vincent was at fault, for he knew that the child was his own. He had killed Lucrecia, but Hojo had taken their son and used him for his own purposes. This was what Vincent sought revenge for. Lucrecia had expressed a love and happiness at her pregnancy, and Vincent had hoped for them to run away together.

Vincent had known from the first day that Lucrecia returned his feelings. He wanted nothing more than to go away and live happily with her, but his hopes were dashed and stomped out of him brutally.

With Lucrecia gone and his son taken away for experimentation, Vincent remained. Like his son, Vincent would become an experiment as well, and eventually much more. The horrors of Hojo's meddling were gory and painful. It wasn't until a month or two after Lucrecia's learned death that Hojo began to act differently around him.

Each day he was poked and prodded with needles and syringes. Painful fluids dripped into his blood stream, sometimes burning like acid. When his blood boiled and his skin crawled, he cried out in agony and could only imagine the deformed appearance his body must have been taking on.

This must have been why Hojo began to look at him lustfully. The mad scientist always found attraction in the most hideous of things, which would explain the change in Hojo's eyes.

There eventually came a day when the scientist entered the lab room, administering a drug into a tube running to his vein, to rouse the pale man from his already drug induced sleep. As Vincent came to, he knew from the look in the madman's eyes that this day of torture was to be different.

That day was the first of many, for Vincent to be told what a monster he was, while the scientist ground into him from behind. Though in excruciating pain, it wasn't as bad as certain other experiments the crazed man had done to him.

What made those days the darkest was the degrading and shameful feeling he felt within as the other man came inside him, yelling forth how sinful he was.

Apparently, not only did he carry Lucrecia's death, but also many others on his hands, though Hojo left out specifics. He was a horrible creature, who was impure and deserving of all his days of pain. At first he didn't believe Hojo. He would shout back that he wasn't evil, that Hojo was the evil one. But, then Hojo would ask who killed Lucrecia, and Vincent would be forced to face the fact that it was his fault. From this steppingstone, Hojo had ingrained the truth of how horrific he truly was. And each time Chaos thought to rebel and utter words of defiance, he would receive a harsh punishment. Whether in the form of surgeries without antiseptics or a harsh penetration from behind, he would be punished.

Finally, one day when he awoke, his eyes roamed down to settle on a metallic claw on his left arm. When he moved his muscles and tendons, the claw moved. Thankfully, whatever amputation had been done, he had been unconscious for. For this he was grateful.

As time passed, Hojo seemed to grow weary of his presence and more focused on his son. It was in these last few days, that Hojo said he was tired and bored of Vincent. It was time for his ultimate punishment. And so, to atone for his horrendous crimes against humanity, Vincent was stored away in the coffin, sustained in a lifeless sleep, where his conscious roamed for thirty long years.

Staring off into the flames, Vincent was lost in his memories, becoming more withdrawn and reclusive.

Tifa and Aeris had turned in for the night, leaving their tent flap open for Yuffie to join them later. The crickets had increased their strumming, which they'd been doing since dusk.

Yuffie had been sighing for the past ten minutes, watching Vincent. Her curiosity was restrained only by the sudden sadness that seemed to envelope the beautiful vampire's aura. She didn't know what to do. His demeanor just screamed out to her, and she wanted to jump up and tackled him in a hug, soothing that everything would be all right.

Sighing again, she pouted. It was times like these that she desperately wanted to know his past, to find out what made him the way he was. Why was he so quiet? Why was he so mysterious? Why did he seem like the least emotional guy in the world, and yet also seem to be the most emotional all at once? And why, for love of the Ancients, was he so damn beautiful? Yuffie still couldn't get over the fact that he managed being both the sexiest man and more beautiful than any woman she'd ever seen.

Biting her lip, Yuffie clenched her fists in an effort not to lose control. When she saw the firelight gleam on his half open eyes, she thought they were watering. If he started to cry, she would too, and then she'd give up and tackle him. 'What is wrong with him?' her mind cried out, wanting to know badly.

Cid was the next to leave the fire side, stalking to his tent and disappearing behind the flap.

They had three tents. The three girls shared the largest makeshift shelter, and the other two were split among the men. Red XIII preferred to sleep outside, keeping a night watch by the dying embers of their fire.

Barret had been snoring away for some time, more audible now as he drifted deeper into his sleep. This was the cue for the others to wake him and send him off to bed. Yuffie, desperate for the distraction stood and kicked Barret in the side, earning a harsh grunt from the large man.

"S'wrong?" the burly gunner slurred still half asleep, as he turned to face his disturbance.

"Go to bed. Don't sleep out here," Yuffie chastised, trying to sound all motherly like Aeris did, but failing miserably and taking a tone more of nagging annoyance.

Grumbling to himself, muttering a few obscenities about a 'klepto ninja', Barret sauntered up and into the same tent Cid had gone to.

Moments later, they heard a yell from Cid and a mumbled apology from Barret before everything quieted down again.

Yuffie paced for a moment, between where the dark skinned lug of a man had been lying to her own spot. But, she knew it was odd behavior, so she collapsed to the ground again, somewhere in between the two places.

Red XIII lifted his head at her antics, amused at the impatience of the ninja girl. For some time, he'd been feigning sleep along side Cloud, while studying their newest member. Vincent Valentine was a man of a tortured past, this much was evident in the glimpses of anguish he caught within the man's eyes.

It didn't take long for him to piece together that Hojo had scarred the man in a similar manner as he had done to himself. The day he became Red XIII was a sad day indeed. But, Vincent had been trapped for thirty years, and before that there was no telling how long the former Turk had been in the clutches of the mad scientist. As it was, he hadn't been imprisoned for very long, but it felt like an eternity between painful experiments and nervous waiting.

In the wild cat's point of view, he was the only person who could at least begin to sympathize with the mysterious and detached stranger. Not to mention, he wouldn't go about staring at the poor man like he was some piece of meat. There was an irony in such a fact.

Lazily lifting his head, Red XIII stood on his legs and stretched languidly before patting his way over to the pale man they called a vampire. Bravely and boldly, he nudged the gunman, almost nuzzling the pale face. This seemed to catch the solemn man wildly off guard, as red eyes stared into his bright yellow ones, startled and unsure.

Tentatively, as Vincent shifted, he plopped down and rested his head in the man's lap. Waiting for a few moments, wondering if this would ever work. He grinned as he felt Vincent relax and place a delicate hand upon his head in a soft stroke. After a few more minutes, his grin turned into a pleased smile, as Vincent became surer of what he'd been after, and gave way to petting the thick fiery red fur.

Purring softly after a little while, Red XIII was firm in his resolution to try and befriend this socially inept man, if only to have him run his fingers through his fur like this. There was a slight itch at his ear, and as soon as he felt it, Vincent's hand would scratch it. Sighing in a new found comfort, he let his eyes drift close, hoping to fall asleep before Vincent left.

Cloud watched half aware, as Yuffie struggled with some internal battle. Every once in a while he would steal glances over at their new recruit, wishing he could see the man's face like he had on their initial meeting.

Out of the corner of his eye, the blond watched as Red XIII made to find his bed for the night. He was mildly surprised when he noticed that the flaming tailed creature approached Vincent and…. Nuzzled his face! 'What!' Cloud's mind raged. Eyes wide and now completely trained on the activity going on only a few feet away, he didn't notice that Yuffie was having a similar reaction. Now the cat was resting his head in the other's lap!

As if Cloud wasn't shocked enough, Vincent actually began to pet the creature. Since when were they so close? If Cloud didn't know any better, he'd say Vincent was more familiar with Red XIII than with himself. He was the leader, the one who sat down and had private conversations with the pale beauty… not the Cosmo Canyon native they had rescued.

While Cloud felt shocked and pangs of jealousy, he became even more surprised upon recognizing his jealousy. Why, for the love of the Ancients, was he jealous that someone was closer to this vampire than he was? That was ridiculous!

It was then he looked over at Yuffie, who was gawking visibly, not even bothering to hide her shock. This stirred anger within the young leader, as he made a connection between his reaction and the young ninja who they all knew had some sort of curious infatuation with the cold gunman. He sure as hell was not infatuated in the least, and he resented finding any implication otherwise.

Standing quickly, Cloud swept off into the remaining tent, intent on falling asleep before Vincent joined him.

TBC….


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

A Furry Friend

As Vincent let his fingers play with the large cat's fur, he felt a vague feeling of calm wash over him. Red XIII knew Hojo like he did. Vincent wondered briefly if the animal had also deserved his confinement? Perhaps this was where his sense of calm suddenly came from, knowing that the warm creature beside him had gone through something like he had.

"Night Vince!" he heard the ninja call before she rolled to her feet and skipped to the girls' tent.

He didn't acknowledge her departure, but kept mindlessly stroking Red XIII's fur. If his hand slowed down or he felt himself drifting off, the wildcat would move its furry head, pushing against his fingers. As a result he would resume the pattern of twirling the soft fur.

Less than an hour later, both were nodding off, the warm fire crackling and popping every so often as a log shift. Vincent found himself too comfortable to move to the tent and instead opted for shifting onto his side and lying down. Though he kept his right hand feebly petting Red XIII, he used his other clawed hand as a pillow and rested his head.

Red XIII knew the moment Vincent had fallen asleep. The man's unclad hand fell motionless and his body seemed to curl up, allowing that thick red cloak to cover him in folds. Musing to himself, he watched the gunman for a short while before nodding off himself. He didn't understand the interest everyone else found in watching this man. Then again, he wasn't human and there were many things he could not relate to. Though if everyone was correct in their half-baked belief that Vincent was a vampire, then the gunman wasn't human either.

Bowing his head further under his high collar, Vincent's hair flopped forward over the headband and splayed across his arm. His pale face was nearly covered by the large cloak's high necking. But, to Red XIII he almost seemed to be like a small child huddling under a blanket, unconsciously taking measures of subtle securities.

Deciding it might not be so bad getting to know the gunman, Red XIII also closed his eyes, with his head on propped on his paws. Gently, so as not to disturb Vincent, he turned on his side, and closer to the supposed vampire's curled form. With a final shrug, his last thought was that perhaps everyone else liked Vincent because he smelled nice.

* * *

The fire was dying down, casting a soft glow across the two forms lying on the ground. Dawn was nearing, and Red XIII found himself waking to the sound of Vincent's barely audible whimpers and pleas. It would seem the gunman was having a nightmare. His concern was mild, until he distinctly heard him murmur, "I've done nothing. Please, Hojo, release me." Another quiet whimper, almost a groan, "I'm sorry for my sins, please, end this."

He wasn't sure whether or not he should rouse the pale gunman, or wait for the dreams to fade. As Vincent went still and fell silent again, he placed his head back down, though he kept his eyes on the pale face of the gunman. In sleep the man had shifted slightly, so that his hair now fell back and the collar dropped nearer his chin. It was a rare moment for the red-eyed warrior to be displayed so openly. He wondered what the others would give to be in his position, simply watching.

Cid was up and ready to go, always rising with the sun. Habitually, he waited for everyone else to wake up while he stoked the fire and fixed a cup of tea. Hunching over, to exit the low roofed tent, he pushed the door flaps back and walked outside to their small campground. Flicking a cigarette out of a half empty pack, he set the stoge between his lips while he searched for his liter.

Patting his jacket and pants down for that small contraption, he finally found it. Lighting up and taking a deep draft, he exhaled the first of his morning nicotine dose while stretching his back and cracking a few vertebrae. Giving a gruff sigh of contentment, he scratched his head and walked toward the nearly dead fire.

Usually Red XIII kept it going, whether with a simple flick of that fire tail to relight the dry wood, or throwing another piece on the pile. Now, he saw that the tiger creature was wagging his tail back and forth lazily with its lion-like head on the vampire's chest, watching the girly man's sleeping face.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Cid didn't snap out of his halting stare until he felt the cigarette slip from his lips. 'Ow, fuck!' he cried silently, catching the wrong end of the bud.

What the hell was the pale pansy boy doing sleeping out here? And why the hell were Red and he all cuddly? Rolling his eyes, he decided to ignore it for the moment, at least until he had his morning tea.

As the pilot's water boiled, he sat down, unsure of himself. Somehow, it didn't feel right to be in front of the vampire's sleeping form. It felt like he was seeing something he shouldn't. But, as he peeked over, he realized it was a rare occasion to see that girly face uncovered.

Again, his cigarette burned without attention, as he went against his better instincts and stared at Vincent's sleeping face. Red seemed to be doing the same thing, as he moved his tail back and forth. This must have been what Cloud first saw when opening the coffin lid. No one else saw what was inside, until Vincent sat up and Cloud stepped back.

If Cid hadn't been a good three feet away from the two of them, he thought he might do something really stupid, like reach his hand out and touch Vincent's face. 'What the fuck!' his mind cried again. Did he just have an urge to touch the girly man's face?

Shaking his head, he went about preparing his tea. Honestly, if he didn't find boiling the water, soaking the tea, and adding just the right amount of honey so tedious, he'd always make his own tea. As it was, Shera made his drinks for him, obviously not now though. He couldn't imagine what it'd be like bringing her along on this new endeavor.

Rubbing a weary face with calloused hands, he sighed again. It was getting harder each day to rise with the sun and actually be awake for it. But, he was stubborn and refused to quit his routine. He was afraid doing so would mean admitting to the only reason he could possibly think of for waking with more stiff joints and muscles each day. Cid was not getting old. For a man of his caliber, old was far off. No, he wasn't old. He was mildly aged.

What did it matter how many years he'd been on this planet? The way he saw things, each person had their own dream to fulfill, and his dream was just taking a few unexpected twists and turns, extending the journey. Besides, he was in better shape than just about every twenty-something-year-old out there, the exception being the people he now traveled with. And, that was considering he was something of a chain smoker and enjoyed a few more drinks than necessary.

Truly, Cid wasn't old, not in the respects that counted. He was young at heart, carrying a bright torch for all his childhood dreams. At thirty-two he didn't appear to be his actual age, not looking any older than twenty-five.

His tea had cooled down enough for him to take the first sip. Steam billowed from the hot liquid, visible in the slightly chilled morning air. Vincent would catch his death if he lay about so casually, in the dewy grass and cool air. It wasn't cold, but the chill was the kind that seeped right into the bone, creating shivers and pain for anyone who was unlucky enough to sport a bad hip. Not Cid of course, but still, even he couldn't wait for the sun to rise just a little higher and begin to warm the day up.

Savoring the warm and sweet liquid, Cid breathed contently, finally having his tea. It never failed to wake him and sooth his body.

"Hey, Red," he called over, in little more than a whisper.

The tiger-like creature's tail ceased its swishing, and his head craned slightly to the side, waiting for a further response.

"The hell you two doin' out here? You there all damn night?" Cid asked, knowing the answer, but not assuming anything just yet. He also just wanted to make his disapproval apparent by sounding incredulous.

Very slowly, Red XIII gently moved away from Vincent, doing his best to keep all movement as undetectable as possible. It took him a minute to finally reach Cid, succeeding in not disturbing the raven-haired man, stretching pleasantly before sitting beside the blond haired pilot. "Yes, all night," was his only reply.

Quirking a brow, Cid took another sip of his tea, asking the question with his sky blue eyes. 'Why?'

"I always sleep out here, why are you surprised?" The tiger avoided the question half-heartedly, never too tired to play games.

"I meant, why is _Mister Emotions_ sleeping out here?" he reiterated, now knowing he'd have to be direct and specific with the tiger that enjoyed being vague.

"He fell asleep out here, it can be quite comfortable by the fire you know," Red XIII answered, as if people slept on the ground in the middle of nowhere all the time.

"Why didn't he join Cloud?" he questioned further.

Red replied immediately, knowing the reaction he would illicit and swishing his tail for that reason, "Why do you care so much?"

Huffing, Cid became a little defensive, though trying not to show it. Scoffing into his tea as he took another sip, he retorted, "I don't. I was just curious. What's it matter to me that you have a new pal to share the ground with?"

In truth, Red XIII wasn't ready to announce his intentions. He didn't really think anyone would understand. There was no ulterior motive, other than to befriend the newest member. As of yet, no one had tried very hard, being immediately put off by his cold personality. But, after one night of trying to become something more than just civil with the fellow fighter, he had been able to make drastic progress. And, after the man's nighttime whimpers, he knew that there was far more to Vincent Valentine than met the eye. He had a renewed vigor to become friends, hoping to find out what the gunman was hiding under that cloaked barrier.

But, telling everyone else his theories and intentions would do nothing to further him along. In fact, he knew that if Cid found out, the blunt pilot would go over and shake Vincent awake, blatantly calling out, 'Red thinks you're a lost little boy looking for some human connection, that true?' So, for now, he'd keep them off the trail as long as possible.

Shortly after the pilot and the four legged member fell silent, Vincent began to stir. Shifting uneasily for a few moments, the raven-haired gunman abruptly sat up in a rush. His red eyes cast about, making sense of where he was and why. It wasn't like him to sleep so deeply, or long. Usually his sleep was fitful and plagued by nightmares, causing him to wake every half hour or so. But, last night was fairly blank, a first in all his time since meeting Hojo and not using Materia.

With a practiced movement, his head bobbed slightly, placing the red band further down his face, as he furrowed his chin behind the cloak's collar. It wouldn't do well to be out on display for everyone's disgust, especially when it was so early. That was no way to start a day.

Cid was drinking his usual daybreak tea, and Red XIII sat beside the blond pilot, casually mulling to himself.

Eventually, everyone woke up and staggered out of their tents. The only person, who seemed unaffected by the fact that yet another day had passed, thereby drawing them closer to the end, was Yuffie. She was as bubbly as ever.

Yuffie had been the last to rise, but apparently she needed no time to wake up, as she bound from the girl's tent, wide awake and ready to go. There seemed a hardened determination to her eyes, which had never been present before, not even in the midst of a battle. And, her aura seemed to be glowing, as if she'd just received the best news in the world, 'Sephiroth was dead, the planet was saved, and everyone had finally realized that she wasn't steeling but just borrowing.'

While many of them ate, lightly discussing where they wanted to head next, Red XIII watched Yuffie. Something was coming. He just knew it. The girl didn't get that gleam in her eye for nothing. As he followed her motions from standing just outside their little circle, to scouring the premise, his eyes widened as he realized her intentions.

It happened all too quickly, for anyone to stop the young ninja. No one else saw it coming, especially not Vincent. The solemn man was once again bordering the outskirts of their band, silent and pensive. The next thing anybody knew, Yuffie had leapt her way towards him, obviously using speed to her advantage, and jumped at Vincent.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, as she dangled from him, attempting to crush him in a hug. In a singsong chipper voice, she greeted him, "Morning sunshine!"

'Oh my,' Red XIII thought, as he lay his face down and covered his eyes with a paw. It was too embarrassing to watch. The last thing he noticed was a visible blush creep to Vincent's cheeks.

Having lit another cigarette, Cid let it go to waste, as his jaw became slack with shock. The stoge fell into half full plate of sausage and eggs.

All conversation stopped. All eyes were focused on Yuffie. And once Vincent began to blush, they were trained on the gunman as well. As if frozen, no one dared to move. Was Yuffie insane? Did she have a death wish?

Tifa had to stifle her laughter when Yuffie starting swinging her feet, being several inches off the ground. 'Oh god!' the longhaired brunette cried inwardly, wanting nothing more than to exclaim how cute that was and laugh her ass off. She was succeeding in keeping her amusement reigned in, until….

Yuffie squeezed her arms again, not liking Vincent's lack of response, "Hey, I said good morning," she chastised, as if Vincent should be following some sort of routine they always did.

It was when Vincent's red eyes momentarily landed on Tifa's, as if begging for some answer, that the kickboxer fell back laughing. It was all she could do, to keep from choking as the laughter came in harsh convulsions while she simultaneously tried to stifle it.

Mildly blushing again, Vincent's mind raced for what he was supposed to do. What was with everyone lately, first Red XIII and now the ninja. So, he did the only thing he could think of, wondering if the young girl wanted what Red had last night. Raising his right arm, he awkwardly placed it on Yuffie's head, ruffling it slightly. "Morning," he finally stammered out, more a question than a greeting.

There was a muffled thud, as Cloud fell from the makeshift seat he'd been on, landing on the ground. His shock was so great that he'd lost all thought and balance. Though, the less than pleasant meeting with the hard grass managed to bring the spiky haired leader back to his senses. Tifa was on her back laughing, while Aeris attempted to go back to her breakfast hiding a smile that kept creeping to her lips.

Releasing the grip around Vincent's neck, where her arms had altered his cloak, drawing the collar away and giving everyone a view of the man's face, Yuffie stood on her own feet again. Turning around, she bound over to the rest of the group, acting as though nothing unusual had happened.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Cid sighed for at least the tenth time that morning. He had the sneaking suspicion that the ninja must have had some inane epiphany and was going to make a habit of clinging to the gunman. However, as odd and wrong as the picture seemed, Vincent standing rigid and unsure of himself with a young girl hugging him while blushing, it was nothing short of cute. And that was a hard thing to achieve in pilot's mind. Before Cid could realize what he found cute about it exactly, he brushed the feeling off.

"Cloud," Aeris said, hoping to jolt the blond leader from his stupor, "Where are we going today?"

It took the spiky haired swordsman a moment to tear his eyes away from a blushing Vincent. He eagerly snatched the opportunity to focus on something else, not liking the odd feeling in his chest at seeing Yuffie all over Vincent. "We're headed to Nibelheilm. We need supplies and I think we could all use a little time before we charge off to Midgar. We can set our minds straight, get some rest and focus."

"I think that's a good idea. I for one have a few loose ends I'd like to tie up," Cid threw in.

"Hmm, yeah. I'd like to see Marlene before we head to Midgar," Barret interjected, hoping he could take a side trip of his own.

Most everyone seemed to be in agreement, though Aeris remained silent, and Vincent just didn't seem to be a part of their little strategy meeting. Aeris was looking a little uneasy, and seemed to be debating whether or not to speak up. Before she could make her decision however, Vincent began to speak.

The fact that he chose to speak to them immediately grabbed everyone's undivided attention,

"Your pessimistic views trouble me," the raven-haired gunman spoke curtly in a cold emotionless voice.

While Cloud furrowed his brows, not sure what the serious man was getting at, Aeris decided to finally speak up as well. "I have to agree with Vincent."

Everyone turned to look at her in surprise, even Vincent.

The kindly Ancient continued, "If we all go off to say our final farewells, what does that say about our expectations for this battle? We're going to save the world, stop this meteor and Sephiroth… not die trying."

Cloud held her gaze, thinking to himself while he stared at her. "You're right, but I think we must be realistic here. No regrets, means nothing can hold us back. I don't want anyone of us to be wishing they'd done something before getting as far as Midgar. We'll lose focus if we do."

There was resolve in Cloud's eyes. He'd certainly matured in a short time period. While Aeris still didn't agree completely, Cloud had a point and he wasn't making this decision without cause. "Okay" she agreed smiling.

Cloud gave a nod, before turning his blue eyes to Vincent. His gaze was locked on the red eyes of the pale and silent man. Without words, he was asking for approval. As the leader he didn't want to do anything without everyone's support, and that included the newest addition.

Everyone else seemed to think the matter was settled, and went back to eating his or her breakfast. Tifa began to tease Yuffie about what she'd done, and question the motives behind it. Barret was talking to Red XIII, while Aeris listened as a passive part of their conversation. Cid, however, was subtly stealing glances back and forth between Cloud and Vincent, who were apparently having some sort of staring contest.

Vincent's brows furrowed ever so slightly, and with his collar out of place from Yuffie, Cloud could see the man's red lips press together. It looked like he was pouting, and for whatever reason the spiky haired fighter felt the urge to not just look from the corner of his eye, but to drop his gaze and watch every little gesture. Then again, there was a greater want to keep looking into those dark red eyes. Before he could become completely lost and forget what he was doing in the first place, Vincent gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Seeing the dark haired man's tacit approval, Cloud felt a grin come to his lips instinctively. The grin faded presently though, when he saw a soft tinge of color come to Vincent's cheeks and the gunman dropped his eyes. With the adjustment of his collar, Vincent walked off.

Cloud's grin faded, because after seeing the color on those pale cheeks, knowing he had caused some sort of emotion in the man, he felt something lurch within his chest. It hadn't been an unpleasant feeling, but considering it was one he sometimes felt when around Aeris, he knew he didn't want to be having it around Vincent.

Clenching his jaw, Cid watched the silent display between their leader and newest recruit. 'What the fuck was that?' his mind yelled, angry at Cloud and Vincent all of a sudden. He watched Vincent stalk off, in the direction of a nearby stream.

The pilot didn't look away from the vampire's retreating back until the cloaked form was out of sight. Then he redirected his eyes to Cloud, narrowing them as he tried to read the expression on the blond boy's face. The kid looked confused, and kept unconsciously looking from Aeris to the direction Vincent had gone off to.

TBC….


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Living in the Past

Considering their plans for the day, it was to be easygoing for once. There was no rush to pack and hurry off to their next destination in hopes of stopping the bad guys before they did something stupid again.

Cid had begrudgingly agreed to drop everyone off wherever they wanted to go. He, of course, was home and content on the Highwind, and didn't need to go anywhere. Tifa had suggested he make amends with Shera, but he grunted gruffly and brushed the comment off. Shera knew he cared for her, why else would he have stopped the damn launch so many years ago? Besides, he knew the woman would get all emotional. And he couldn't stand it if the last conversation between the two of them was mushy, instead of the usual condescending treatment he gave.

It was back to Wutai for Yuffie, and Red XIII had requested to spend his time in Cosmo Canyon. Tifa and Barret went together to visit Marlene. The longhaired young woman had been reluctant to part ways with Cloud. She had wanted their leader to join her. Her ill will at the predicament was eased somewhat when Aeris made her own plans to accompany Vincent to ShinRa Mansion. It was an unusual request from the mature woman, but Vincent really had no reason to refuse any of their company.

As the Highwind approach Nibelheilm the raven-haired gunman stood on the watch deck. It was a rather windy place to be, but it had the best view of the ship. From here, Vincent would be the first to see any sign of the mansion.

He hadn't planned on returning there so soon. Those walls held far too many bad memories. However, he'd taken Cloud's words to heart. Besides, he hadn't searched through the forgotten remnants of the mad scientist's life as thoroughly as he would have liked. There was still a chance that he might find some useful or insightful material.

Breathing in the fresh air he wondered if his life could ever contain more than despair. Perhaps if he knew the truth behind his sins, then he could be released from the chains of repentance. His chest hurt as he felt a flicker of hope within himself.

Squeezing his eyes shut to hold in the surge of emotions, he clutched his claw as a reminder of what he was. The hurt he felt was punishment. He deserved this lonely feeling and aching soul. It would not be right for him to hold hopes for anything but a life of darkness.

If only he knew why he must live in such a way.

His dark lashes became damp. Moving away from the railing, he huddled closer to the ship and away from the whipping winds. It was as though the closer they flew towards the grounds of his entrapment, the more his chest ached.

Vincent kept his eyes closed, as warm tears trailed down his pale cheeks. Swallowing the lump in his throat he cursed at his own weakness. A soul as hideous and wretched as his should not be feeling sorrow or sadness, only regret and submissive complacency at his dictated role.

It came as a startling surprise to suddenly feel gentle fingers wiping away his tears. His bewildered crimson eyes snapped open and stared into concerned blue orbs. Cloud was standing before him, with his hand raised to swipe a thumb across his streaked cheeks.

Vincent backed up immediately, only to meet the ship's shell. Remembering his place he lowered his head and had the sense to blush in embarrassment. "I'm sorry" he murmured in apology.

Fine eyebrows creased together in confusion as Cloud tried to reason out Vincent's odd reactions. He'd been looking for the gunman for the past half hour, and when he finally found him, he was crying silent tears. At first, he had been shocked, but as he stepped quietly closer he'd been in awe. It was strange enough to find that emotionally expressive look upon the gunman's usually impassive features. But, then to notice sweet crystal tears trailing down those soft cheeks. It had taken Cloud a moment to regain his own composure.

While the blond did not understand the erratic beating of his heart, he had acted instinctively and reached forth to sooth the pale beauty. Now, as Vincent was backed against the hull, his mind seemed to snap back into place. Lowering his hand, Cloud cleared his throat and averted his eyes. "We're nearly there," he commented.

Not waiting for a response, he spiky haired man turned and left. He reasoned that there was little he could do to console the other, when he was in the midst of his own inner battle. The way that Vincent seemed to be affecting him was most peculiar and unexplainable.

While Cloud was young and not an expert with love, he wasn't naïve. He new very well what his body was reacting to. It was just confusing for him to deal with. After all, he had only just met the vampire. Aside from not even knowing the gunman, the silent companion showed little signs of being anything but impassively silent any time soon. Oh, and perhaps the biggest factor of all, Vincent was a guy. Regardless of how feminine that face might be, or how slim that body might appear, there was no doubt that Vincent was the same sex as him.

It wasn't long before the Highwind reached its destination. It was the fasted ship, of any sort, on the planet.

Vincent's first steps off the cold metal contraption were rather hesitant. Now that he was there, or at least close enough to be walking, he had doubts. Luckily, Aeris was walking right beside him, so he felt compelled to move forward.

Aeris wasn't sure what to expect. She knew it was odd that she asked to come along, and yet she wouldn't have rested easy doing anything else. There was a terrible pain in those sharp red eyes. She had caught sight of it when Vincent made his request to Cid to return to the mansion.

Walking down the steep ramp, her rubber soles gave muffled thuds. Seeing the gunman had proceeded on ahead, she jogged to catch up with him. She wasn't going for her self, but rather to support Vincent.

For all of Aeris good will and ability to console others, she knew when silence was best. It had always been a kind of gift she had, to sense emotions and know how to respond. Now, her senses were telling her that this distraught man needed silence. It was obvious that there was much thought going on behind those crimson eyes. However, his fragile demeanor cried out for a companion. That was why she walked beside him, not speaking, just acting as a warm presence.

A cool breeze swept past them, fluttering her light brown hair. Over the sound of Vincent's thick cloak moving with the gust, she thought she heard a voice calling out. Unsure, she stopped her tracks. When Vincent followed her halt, she became certain she'd heard someone.

Scouring the area before her, she saw naught but the outskirts of Nibelheilm. That left only one other direction.

As if reaching the same conclusion at the same moment, Aeris and Vincent both turned to look behind themselves and back towards the ship. The Highwind was a monstrously big and created such strong winds that it was necessary to land it a good distance from any town. Running closer from the open entrance of the ship was Cloud. He had called out for them to wait.

It was a wonder how the spiky haired fighter was able to carry around that enormous sword of his without falling over. It was even more perplexing how he swung it with such ease in battle.

Cloud quickly closed the distance between them and slowed down to walk the last few steps with a soft pant. "Cid's mooning over his precious engine, so I thought I'd join you guys," he explained his sudden rush to catch up.

"Honestly, why doesn't that man go see Shera?" Aeris questioned as she turned back and they started walking together.

The blond seemed to think for himself a moment before answering. "You know Cid. He doesn't handle that sort of stuff so well. Besides, he's too stubborn to admit that there might be anything he should say out loud that he hasn't already."

"No regrets," Vincent's soft voice spoke, hardly above a whisper. Neither Aeris nor Cloud was sure if it was meant for them to hear, but they understood his meaning.

The three of them seemed in agreement to continue their trek in silence. Each was slightly apprehensive of what they might find within the deserted structure. With the end drawing near, they felt compelled to search for answers.

The tense manner in which Vincent held himself was what clued the other two in on the raven-haired man's nervousness. It was truly a struggle to understand what feelings might lie behind those guarded red eyes. They knew so little, and even what they had come to learn was rather sad and depressing. They could only hope there wasn't much more to this pale man's past, and that if there was that it was of a happier note.

Walking through the tall, rusted cast iron gates, the tall structure of the dreary mansion loomed before them. The grass was dead and brown. The long pathway towards the ornately carved stairs was overrun with weeds. Even the weeds had lost the battle of survival and crunched underfoot as they slowly made their way closer.

Cloud wasn't certain, but he could have sworn that when last they were here, the place didn't look nearly so abandoned. He recalled dry green grass and a few colorful flowers running along the vines that cascaded down the stone dwelling. Now however, it looked as though it had been left to rot in harsh weathers for the past century.

Returning from his confused inspection of the grounds, Cloud noticed an equally confused Aeris looking about with concern. Assuming she must be thinking the same thing as he was, he voiced his thoughts, "It didn't look this dead before."

Biting her lip, the Ancient furrowed her thin brows, with eyes that almost seemed hurt by that mutual observation. "There is no life left here." Her brow creased further in deep thought. Finally, she tore her eyes from the wasteland of plant life and looked directly into Cloud's luminescent eyes. "Before, I could sense something," she paused, searching for the right words, "A faintly beating life force. It was what the flowers were drawing on. Even here, those flowers were breathing." Her eyes suddenly shifted past the blond swordsman to rest on Vincent's cloaked form.

The shrouded vampire was gracefully stepping up each stair in a smooth movement that affirmed the belief that he was not a mortal being.

Ignoring the unspoken insinuation from Aeris, Cloud turned to follow Vincent. While he'd normally shout out for any other member to wait up, he wouldn't have done so with the gunman. Treating him the same way as he did everyone else didn't feel right. Especially, when he didn't seem to feel the same way about the alluring man as he did everyone else.

Once again catching up, Cloud settled in stride with the gliding steps of his companion. He watched in fascination as Vincent's eyes swept around the large open room they had entered. The man's pale face was raised from its usual burrowing beneath that high collar. Bright light shown in through a tall window at the top of the open staircase, making those delicate features all the more visible. Bowed lips were slightly parted and glistened after a pink tongue darted out to moisten them.

As much as the gunman seemed entranced with the room around him, Cloud was captivated by the longhaired beauty's exposed face. He suddenly found his hand itching to reach up and caress a pale cheek. From earlier, he recalled how smooth and soft and surprisingly warm it had felt. Now, he felt a longing to touch even more.

The cracking sound of glass beneath Aeris' boot snapped him from his daydreams. Aeris had taken her time to join them, and he'd completely forgotten she was here. Running a hand through his blond hair, he cursed and reprimanded himself. At twenty-one years of age, he was not some hormonal teenager. Such thoughts about the silent addition to their team were not acceptable.

"I'm going to Hojo's lab." The soft words echoed in the bare room. It was a subtle hint that he would like to be left alone.

Aeris and Cloud picked up on it and remained in place as the mysterious being walked off. They noted how the elegant steps faltered before the staircase slightly, halting as if coming across some barrier. It was only for a moment however, before he kept on walking and disappeared.

Although Aeris was not one to gossip or talk behind the backs of others, she couldn't help but ask, "What do you think really went on here thirty years ago?"

Mako enhanced eyes tore away from the spot they'd last glimpsed that tattered red cloak and fell to the concerned Ancient. Crossing his arms, he regarded her with a thoughtful expression. "I can't even begin to guess. Some people are just quiet, it's just their way." It was hard to tell whether Vincent's cold and closed demeanor was just the way he was or a result of past events.

"No one has that much sadness in their eyes if something bad didn't happen," Aeris countered, firm in her belief that Vincent was warped to become the lonesome warrior he was today.

"We don't know that," Cloud responded, not liking the idea that anything bad could happen to such an angelic looking person. It was like saying horrible things were done to an innocent child like Marlene.

"Cloud," Aeris soothed, seeming to sense some underlying emotion in their leader, "Is something the matter?" she asked gently.

Sighing, the swordsman glanced down into the flower girl's kind green eyes. There was nothing he couldn't trust her with. She would never ridicule him or break their tacit confidence. "I just can't stand the idea that someone," he searched for the right words, "that anything bad could have happened to him."

Sensing a hidden emotion in the spiky haired boy, Aeris walked forward and sat down on the bottom steps of the main staircase. Motioning for Cloud to sit beside her, she waited until he was in place before speaking. "You care for him, don't you?"

"We just met him," Cloud defended, neither denying nor admitting anything.

"Sometimes it isn't a matter of how long you've known someone," she began, but upon seeing the uncomprehending look on his face she tried again. "You've know Tifa for a long time now, right?" she inquired, hoping to impress an important point that she'd learned long ago.

"Since we were little kids," he said, shifting his feet to a lower step and taking on more comfortable position.

"And yet, can you say that you care for her more than you do for me?" she questioned.

It was a moment before he responded. "Not exactly. But that's different."

"How?" Each word she spoke was patient and understanding. She truly did not seem merely a year older than him.

"It just is," he replied at a loss for a proper reason.

Intuitive as ever, she guessed what his mind was dwelling on. "You believe that you care for me just as much as Tifa, even though you've known her longer, because you're in love."

Cloud's eyes widened as he stared at her. A slight blush graced his cheeks. His lack of denial was as good as an agreement.

"But, you're not in love with me," Aeris spoke smoothly, looking forward into the darkened room. The light from the window behind them did not reach the far corners.

"Aeris," Cloud began, unsure of what to say. He wasn't even sure of it himself, whether or not it was true.

"No, I know the truth. You're love for me is for the place I can fill in your heart," she answered with a small nod, as if finally reaching the answer for herself as well.

"Place?" the blond asked, rather curious of the insight this woman seemed to hold.

"Do you remember your mother, Cloud?"

The absolute quiet that followed was all the answer either of them needed. While Aeris had secretly found a warm happiness in the thought that their handsome leader had fallen in love with her, she felt no sadness at this sudden realization. In fact, it was warming to know that she might play such an important role in anyone's life.

Returning to the point she had been trying to make before, she continued, "So you see, the love we feel for each other is not measured by the hours we spend together. Though, it does generally bring us closer together, that's not always the way things work."

Remaining silent for a few more moments, Cloud also stared forth at nothing in the center of the room. Finally, as all of Aeris words set in, he rounded on her defensively, "I'm not in love with Vincent!" he half shouted.

Green eyes rose in questioning surprise, "I never said you were." She couldn't help but giggle at the horror stricken look that crossed the spiky haired leader's face. Afraid that her amusement might set him back in his quest to sort out his feelings, she reassured, "But, it wouldn't be a bad thing if you were."

"What!" He did shout this time.

Oh, how young and naïve their leader could be at times. "I'm just saying, it wouldn't be a bad thing," she reiterated.

"B-but, he's a guy," he pointed out the obvious.

Smirking to herself, she gave him her best mischievous look, "A very pretty one at that."

Their conversation was abruptly halted as a loud crashing noise sounded from far away. They were both to their feet and rushing in the direction Vincent had headed. Within their own musings they had forgotten how vulnerable a place this might be for the very man they were discussing.

Cloud took the lead, practically leaping down the mossy and slippery stairs that lead to the dungeon like basement. Aeris was forced to fall behind, unable to keep as sure a footing in the darkness as her trained friend.

"Vincent!" Cloud's worried voice called out, echoing off the walls. It was as damp and musky down there as ever. He was almost certain the noise had come from this area. It made sense after all. This was where all of Hojo's documents would be, and where they had initially found Vincent.

"Vincent!" he called out louder. His heart was in his throat and he was doing his best not to panic. Usually he was able to keep his calm in such situations. Not now though. Not after Aeris had filled his head with half-baked ideas and assurances. Though he was far from succumbing to any feelings he might harbor for the raven-haired beauty, he didn't want the gunman to be gone before he could sort everything out.

He forced open each door along the corridor, scouring each darkened room quickly before rushing to the next. Faintly he heard Aeris' muffle cry behind him. She had probably looked in the first of many blood-spattered rooms full of contraptions he didn't want to remember in his dreams. Rounding the next corner he headed for he next door, but before he could twist the handle and throw it open, his eyes caught a faint light at the end of the narrow passage.

His feet sprinted across the cold stone floor, racing to the partially opened door. Before he reached the doorway, he heard splashing sounds. Looking down, he saw there was a pool of watery liquid covering the ground. The source of the liquid was from within the room.

Throwing the heavy wooden door the rest of the way, Cloud halted his footsteps suddenly. At the far end of the room was a large broken glass container, shaped like a cylinder. A body lay on the ground before the shattered container, with blue liquid pooling about its form, draining from the holding unit. The body was that of a woman, wearing a long white dress. Her head lay face first on the stone floor, with white hair sopping to the side. Her whole body appeared to have been bleached out.

Tearing his eyes from the motionless form of the dead body on the ground, Cloud shifted his gaze to the corner. Between a bookshelf and the broken container, Vincent was crouched back, as if trying to melt into the wall itself. Huddled beneath the folds of his read cloak. Cloud gulped and silently willed the gunman to make some movement.

With his eyes trained intently on the person he'd rushed down there so desperately to find, the blond noticed the cloaked form was shaking. Now, as his senses returned, he perceived muffled sobs.

Something snapped within Cloud, as he realized Vincent was crying again. Rushing forth, Cloud stooped and enveloped the solemn companion in his arms. The sobs stopped for a moment. Vincent seemed surprised and frightened. Afraid that the pale man would back away like before, Cloud tightened his hold and reached a hand up to gently stroke silken hair.

Gulping, Cloud did his best to ignore how his chest restricted when Vincent gave in. The introverted man gave way to expressing his pain, and continued to sob into the blond's chest, while clutching the soft fabric tightly of his battle worn vest.

Aeris arrived shortly after, fighting down her own emotions at what she found. She didn't need to view to cold and lifeless body in the middle of the floor twice to know who it was. Vincent had found Lucrecia, apparently preserved in some twisted manner by Hojo.

Realizing what such a discovery must have done to Vincent, she signaled to Cloud that they should leave right away.

TBC….


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Confusing Feelings

With a surprising amount of confidence and care, Cloud rubbed Vincent's lithe back until the distraught form stilled. The blond was not used to consoling people. In fact the mere idea of having someone cry on his shoulder was enough to make him uncertain and nervous. But, seeing the pale gunman in such a vulnerable state had stirred a reaction from him that was almost instinctive.

Now, as the slim form of the angelic man huddled against his chest, Cloud could feel the tortured sobs subside. Within his tight embrace, the two of them had shifted positions slightly. Cloud looked up and found Aeris staring back at him with her own tears. Frantically she pointed at the door and made a gesture saying they should leave.

His bright blue eyes fell to the floor where the woman's body lay crumpled and inhuman in its bleached state. He couldn't be sure who the dead girl was, but he had a good idea. While he wracked his brain for some way to casually slip from the room, without giving Vincent the chance to see the corpse of the only woman he'd ever loved, the raven haired man seemed to remember his place.

Abruptly pushing on Cloud's chest, Vincent found he was tightly held and could not get away. But the blond swordsman was far from forcing him to do anything and gently released his hold.

Swiftly standing up, Vincent hid his embarrassed features behind his cloak. It was a wonder he could see what was in front of him, as his headband fell low and his collar reached high.

With his red cloak sweeping behind him, barely hovering above the sodden ground, Vincent stopped in the doorway. Without turning around he muttered, "I'm sorry." With that he hurried from the room.

Aeris was still sniffing and Cloud was sitting on the cold floor. As the blond fighter stood up he frowned in self-distaste when his chest felt cold without Vincent clinging to it.

Cloud looked from Aeris to the empty doorway, wondering what he should do. It was then that the fact that there was a corpse lying before him seemed to settle in. Still wondering what he should do next, he watched as Aeris bent to the white body before them. If ever he doubted why a sweet flower girl could join their band of fighters, her actions in that room would have settled the matter.

With tears still in her eyes, and a few running down her cheeks, Aeris bent and gently lift the cold head of the woman she'd assumed to be Lucrecia. Carefully, she rolled the body over. But before she could move the sopping white hair out of the way to see the deceased girl's face, the body suddenly melted. At least, that's what it looked like.

Startled, Aeris jumped back, watching as the hair and dress, face and limbs, all morphed into a liquid substance. Much like the bluish fluid on the floor already, Lucrecia's body seemed to just vanish and run along in the large puddle.

Shock evident in her eyes, Aeris gaped up at Cloud. Between the two of them they knew such a twisted end was the result of something Hojo had done to the poor woman.

Straightening up, Aeris smoothed out her dress and wiped her eyes. Strength was important, emotional and physical. Until there cause was fulfilled, she could not be weak. "Go after Vincent," she ordered, knowing the confusion Cloud must be feeling at the moment. "I'm going to stay and look around a bit."

Hesitating, Cloud tried to make sense of what had just happened. It wasn't helping that his mind and heart were going through emotional turmoil. "She wasn't here before," he stated without any real certainty.

"No," she agreed. While they hadn't searched every crevice of the mansion, they had been in this room before. She remembered it, because it seemed to be Hojo's personal office. "Which means, Hojo came back here after we left," she concluded aloud.

"It might be dangerous to stay here by yourself," Cloud reasoned. The time slot for Hojo's return was small, which meant the crazed man had been out and about fairly recently.

"I suppose you could stay here with me, if you think Cid can do a good job of making Vincent feel better," Aeris prodded.

In truth, after straightening things out with Cloud, she felt compelled to encourage a relationship between the ex-Soldier and ex-Turk. Whether they were just friends, or perhaps lovers, she had a sixth sense that they were what the other needed. Cloud was young and more vulnerable than he thought. Already, the leader had sought Vincent out for guidance on several occasions. Now that she was certain of the sort of love he felt for her, she feared he'd struggle in the aftermath of their war. It was difficult for her mind to reason out, especially when she knew the gunman so little. And yet, her instincts about people were usually correct.

Cloud pictured for a moment, a similar scene transpiring between Vincent and Cid as with Vincent and himself. Gritting his teeth he ran out of the room, sprinting to catching up with the pale vampire before he wound up in the gruff pilot's arms.

Sniffing one last time, Aeris smiled slightly at the childish display of emotion that Cloud expressed. Their leader was strong and dependable, but so young and new to life. It might have been because he spent his years learning to become a fighter instead of a young man. In that respect, she feared that perhaps the two of them were not well matched, as they both seemed a bit socially inept.

Regardless, Vincent would need one of them by his side. There was so much they didn't know. But, one thing was clear to her, and that was that the lonely man needed somebody. For now, there were just the three of them available, at least for the next day or so. While she was probably best suited for such matters, it seemed as though Cloud had an instinctive reaction.

Frowning at her dreary surroundings, the brown haired woman slowly walked about the room. There were shelves filled with science books and journals. Opposite the tall bookshelf was a rather cluttered desk, full of papers and folders and pens. The large containment unit was sorely out of place. The general atmosphere of the room was of some cold and damp dungeon used for a workaholic monk who was translating scriptures.

It would take weeks to pour through all of the material, and this was only one room. But, she figured that if this really were Hojo's own office, then it would contain whatever information Vincent was searching for.

As her eyes perused various titles, she loaded her arms up with folders and journals. It was lucky she happened to be carrying a fairly empty bag. Aside from a few potions, there was a fair amount of room to pack in what her arms couldn't carry. It seemed a bit inconvenient to be doing it this way, but she was not going to let the gunman back in this room.

Perhaps it was the motherly nature in her again. But, she felt so drawn to Vincent. When she pictured his angelic face, she wanted so badly to ease his pain and make whatever burden and sadness those eyes showed go away.

With a final observant glance, Aeris tried to find anything that she might have missed. As it was, she felt ready to fall forward with the large stack she held. She didn't know how she'd make it back to the Highwind.

Despite Vincent's long strides and haste to leave the mansion behind, Cloud managed to catch up with him before he left Nibelheilm.

"Vincent!" the blond swordsman called out. To his surprise the other man stopped. Placing a hand on a cloaked shoulder, he squeezed gently.

The gunman's only response was to burrow his head lower, shrouding all his delicate facial features.

Lips pressed tightly together, Cloud fought for the right words. He was afraid of driving the distraught man off. "Will you… talk with me?" he asked softly while boldly stepping closer and draping an arm around slender shoulders.

Peeking out from a small opening, a crimson eye looked at him questioningly.

"Please, come with me," the blond spoke again.

A small nod was Vincent's only answer.

Not letting his arm fall from its place around the cloaked gunman's shoulders, Cloud escorted the solemn man back to his quarters. They would be better able to speak privately like this.

As the two of them walked through the empty corridors of the Highwind, Vincent couldn't help but lean into Cloud's hold slightly. The shocked man's mind had been running at such a fast pace, and his chest felt so tight. But, somehow that pain felt subdued with the constant pressure around his shoulders. He noted a faint scent of oil and burnt wood. It was probably from the constant maintenance of that broadsword and the campfire smoke that seemed to root itself in everyone's clothes. Pinning the scents down gave his mind something to focus on.

Closing the door behind them, Cloud let his hand drop. "Make yourself comfortable."

Unsure, Vincent waited for some hint as to what Cloud meant. It was when he saw the blonde unbuckle his boots and unstrapped his weapon that he understood. Following the younger man's lead, Vincent _made himself comfortable_. It was weird for him to be there. He was a little apprehensive about what Cloud wanted to talk about.

Again, uncertain about what he should do, Vincent looked around for some place to sit. Surely their discussion would be like the others they had, where Cloud talked about his worries and asked for advice in their next move. So, thinking it might take a while, Vincent sat down in the only place available in the small living quarters. He moved to the bed and sat as though he were on the ground in front of the campfire once again.

Cloud had busied himself with placing his sword in its case, all the while trying to think of how to broach the sensitive subject. Finally thinking he had the right thing to say, he turned around. All words left him suddenly as he viewed Vincent sitting on his bed. With knees drawn up closely, the raven beauty was settled beneath that heavy cloak. Curious red eyes gazed at him from across the room, waiting for whatever was to come.

The younger man could feel it. Now that Aeris had given him the proper words for the feelings, he could tell exactly what it was. How blind must he have been not have noticed it? This wasn't some crush. But, he also couldn't say it was love. Whatever it was, it made his heart pound and his blood heat. Lusting after another man. It wasn't right, was it? He didn't know. He'd never thought about it before.

Fighting back the sudden urge to tackle Vincent right there, he walked over to his bed and sat down. As he shifted to better face the silent man, he tried to remember what words he'd found earlier.

Although he would have tried to be vague and polite about the topic he was bringing up, Cloud knew that with the gunman's cold and blunt nature, such measures would be pointless. Instead, he just voiced what he was thinking about. "Was that Lucrecia in there?"

Vincent's reaction was immediate. His head snapped up, forgetting about keeping his face obscured from view. "No!"

"Then, do you know who it was?" Cloud ventured, wary of upsetting the man.

Settling back, Vincent let his hair fall forward as he dropped his head to rest on his knees. He didn't want to look into those bright blue eyes. Every time he stared too long into those eyes he lost himself, and forgot about his burden and sins. Forgetting was very dangerous. "A clone," he finally answered.

Leaning forward in emphasis, Cloud remarked incredulously, "A clone?"

"Nnh," was Vincent's only reply.

"You didn't hurt yourself when you broke that container, did you?" the blond asked with sincere concern.

"No," he mumbled in reply from beneath his high collar.

There was an awkward silence that followed. Cloud was feeling as though he were about to snap. He couldn't place it. It was just a terribly restless feeling within him. It was as though he'd go insane if he didn't do something, anything. Each second that ticked by he could feel the tension build. He was extremely confused, but willing to follow his instincts, since they usually saved his hide in battle.

"Vincent," he spoke abruptly, with a tone of impatience.

The crimson-eyed shooter seemed to ignore the odd tone in Cloud's voice and kept his head resting while responding, "Yes?"

"Will you let me hold you?" Cloud blurted out quickly, his eyes watching the pale beauty's reaction intently.

The raven head shot up so fast that the red headband fell forth to cover his eyes completely. "What?" he asked, not even bothering to adjust the band so that he might see better.

Reaching out, Cloud carefully lifted the loose band away from the alluring face of his currently shocked companion. "Please?" he pleaded, wanting the other man's consent on this matter more than anything.

Red lips parted in hesitant response. Vincent didn't have a clue what was running through the blond's mind. Was it normal for such behavior to occur among a group of friends, or perhaps, was it the blue-eyed man's way of consoling him? Now that he was gazing into those bright eyes again, he was finding himself relaxing and drifting slightly. There was a raw need in those blue depths, a need he felt unable to deny. Biting his bottom lip for a moment, he still felt reluctant to consent. But, as he watched the swift changing of emotions that crossed Cloud's face, expressing need and then hurt, he finally gave in. "Okay," he whispered.

Swiftly and deftly, Cloud reached out, taking advantage of this rare opportunity. This would be the time for him to sort out all his feelings and set his head straight. Grasping a handful of silken hair, Cloud let it slide through his fingers. When he raised his hand higher and brushed it through those soft raven strands, he noticed a small gasp escape soft red lips.

Afraid that continuing such intimate touches would mislead his heart into doing what his body wanted, Cloud stopped caressing the soft hair. Instead, he moved forward and wrapped his arms around the other man. At first, Vincent seemed tense, just as when he'd first held him back at the mansion.

After a minute or so, the gunman relinquished his fears and uncertainties and let Cloud have his way. He relaxed and even laid his head against the other's chest.

Long moments past, as they remained in such a position. Cloud felt his heart beating madly and knew that Vincent must have been able to tell. Regardless of how weird it might have felt, Cloud could only describe it as wonderful. It felt so damn good to be holding onto the crimson-eyed man like this.

When he heard the quite breathing of the longhaired man still to infrequent breaths, he knew the Vincent was drifting off. Gently he leaned forward, pushing them both down along the bed. He felt Vincent tense suddenly. "Lay here with me," he requested with more confidence this time.

Not waiting for a response, Cloud lay down and drew Vincent's slender frame up close.

"What-" Vincent began to question, not understanding how someone could stand to be this close to him. But, Cloud quieted him.

"Shh. Don't question," he whispered softly into Vincent's ear. In truth, he had no answers for why he was acting to strangely or feeling such urges for holding and touching the gunman.

Shivering at the sensation Cloud's warm breath sent through him, Vincent fought for reason. Furrowing his brows, he tried to understand what was going on. He didn't like the calm feeling he had inside, it wasn't right. It might have felt good, but he didn't deserve to be feeling good in any respect. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to part from those warm arms. So, in a moment of weakness, he let go of all his qualms and fell into Cloud's hold completely.

The blonde exhaled deeply as he felt soft hair brush against his chin. He felt warm breath against his neck, as the man he had deemed a fallen angel huddled closer.

* * *

It was a good hour before Aeris made it back to the Highwind. While she hadn't spent a very long time searching through Hojo's office, the trek back the ship had been heavily burdened. Worse still was when she'd forgotten the way out of the basement.

Eventually though, she'd managed just fine. Now, she unloaded her arms and bag in the privacy of her own quarters with a grateful sigh. Her next task would be taking a nice hot bath. Her muscles were a little sore and her emotions were highly strung.

After that, she'd begin to look through he material she'd brought back. Hopefully she'd find something useful or of importance. If not, then with enough determination she could get through all of it before tomorrow and take another trip back to the mansion to look for more.

As she let the water fill in the tub, she wondered how Vincent was doing at the moment. She hoped Cloud had found some way to console the man. It was difficult to know what words would help and what ones would make things worse.

Perhaps tonight would be the beginning of actual friendship, and healing of old wounds. Was it fate that they had all met? It must have been. There were too many variables in their meeting for it to not have been destined.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The Shocking Truth

Soft knocking on the cabin door stirred Cloud from his sleep. As his body recognized the foreign heat of a body pressed against him, his eyes shot open. Huddled against his chest, with one hand grasping his shirt, was Vincent. Cloud's arm was pillowing the sleeping man's head. Lying close, his elbow curled to grip a narrow shoulder. Silky hair was entwined between his fingers.

Looking at the relaxed and soft expression on Vincent's sleeping face, he'd say the gunman was rather enjoying the warmth of being held to his chest. Though, it may have just been hopeful thinking on Cloud's part.

'What am I doing?' the blond asked himself.

The soft knocking that had woken him up in the first place sounded again. It was hesitant and timid, so he knew exactly who it was. Besides, he didn't even think Cid would bother knocking, which was probably a good reason why Cloud shouldn't have asked Vincent to sleep with him.

Torn between a strong desire to keep still and stare at Vincent's sleeping face for the rest of the century and answering the door, Cloud delayed in reluctance. Even if Aeris had put the idea of harboring romantic feelings for the gunman in his head to begin with, he wasn't about to let her walk in and find the two of them entangled together in bed. She'd probably beat him with her quarterstaff and rant about how he was despicable to corrupt the shy beauty.

With disappointed longing, Cloud gently extracted himself from Vincent and the bed. Biting his lip he muttered quick words of pleading that he'd be able to shift away without waking the raven-haired beauty up.

It felt terribly cold stepping out of the bed. This wasn't the usual winter morning chill that came with leaving warm blankets behind. It was a chill from a loss and the desire for body heat. The desire very nearly made him bar the door and jump back beside Vincent.

Yawning, he scratched his spiky hair and walked across the room. Keeping with the attempt to not wake the sleeping man, Cloud quietly opened the door and peered out into the hallway.

As expected, his gaze shifted down a bit to find Aeris. He was surprised to see the state she was in. Still wearing her clothes from the day before, her dress looked wrinkled as though she'd fallen asleep in it. Her usually neatly tied hair was bound haphazardly. His concern peeked when he saw the dark circles under her bright eyes, which were less bright and more blood shot.

His instinctive response would have been to comment on her appearance, but after spending so much time with the women in their party he had learned a few things. Tifa was often very touchy about her looks.

"Aeris?" he spoke her name with worry.

Sniffing, the young woman rubbed a hand across her tired eyes. It had been quite a night. It hadn't taken her very long to find material pertaining to Vincent. In fact, many of Hojo's journals were solely dedicated to the documentation of all the madman's observations of the former Turk. Very quickly she had become disgusted with the scribbled lettering she read. As the hours droned on, she felt compelled to pick up where she had left off, even after suspending her search to deal with the gravity of it all. Crying silently, she'd finished all she could handle for the time being.

Unable to convey what she'd been doing through a painful look, she opened her mouth to speak. "I know about Vincent and what happened thirty years ago." Tears formed in her sore eyes, threatening to spill over as she recalled a few of the pictures that had been placed between the pages.

Blue eyes sharpened as Cloud quickly turned his head back to his bed. A sigh escaped as he saw that the gothic beauty was still safely covered in his sheets and unmoved. "How did you…." Before he could ask how, he became more curious as to what she now knew, "What did you find out?"

Having followed Cloud's gaze, Aeris peeked her head further in and searched for what the blond had been looking at. Surely Vincent wasn't there. 'Oh my,' she thought with surprise.

"Cloud, listen to me." She looked into his Mako blue eyes urgently. "I realize what you may be feeling right now, but you need to stop." Seeing the accusing look he gave her, she quickly explained, "I know what I said yesterday, and it still stands. But, you need to understand what he's been through before you can do anything. Please, tell me you haven't slept with him?"

"I did sleep with him, last night." Seeing the stricken look on her face he wondered if they were talking about the same thing. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"Did you have sex with Vincent last night?" she asked bluntly. Though she was immensely amused at the blond's naïve nature, she wouldn't let on.

Blushing furiously, Cloud's eyes widened in surprise. Gulping, he stumbled over his embarrassment to fulfill his curiosity. "How could we have had sex? He's a guy."

Structured eyebrows creased together as Aeris' mouth fell open. Closing her mouth quickly she bit her lip. She wondered if it was possible to survive the emotional roller coaster she'd been riding the past day. How was it possible for a twenty-one year old man to not know the basic concept of intercourse between either gender? Too many years spent training and too much focus on the war, she supposed. Still, even Yuffie would be fairly knowledgeable and the ninja was only sixteen.

Briefly, she wondered if she should be showing Cloud Hojo's journals at all if he seemed to know so little. But, he had to see. Besides, she would be there to explain it all. "Cloud, I think I should explain a few things to you later." If the blond swordsman didn't know how to have sex with Vincent, then there was no question as to whether they had or hadn't.

"Meet me in my room in a fifteen minutes, okay? I have to shower and get dressed." After a moment's debate she added, "Bring Vincent with you." After all, the former Turk had the most right to see the files.

"Aeris, what's wrong? Have you been crying?" he eyed her seriously, forgetting about his previous embarrassment.

"Everything I need to show you is in my quarters. Just come there," she replied before rushing off. If they were lucky, they could settle this before the morning dragged on and Cid questioned their absence. It wasn't that it was a secret, but it was far too personal and private for even the others to know. If Vincent told the others afterwards, then that was another matter. But, she already knew, and with Cloud's growing interest in their fair skinned companion, it was imperative he knew the delicate ground he'd be treading on.

Quietly, Cloud closed the door behind Aeris' vanishing form. His adrenaline was running in apprehension. There was a sad and painful gleam in her turquoise eyes that set him on edge.

His adrenaline pumped for different reasons as he turned back and faced Vincent's sleeping form. Was it possible to have sex with another man? He didn't see how. But even without an accurate idea, he still found the thought of having the gunman in such a way highly arousing.

Running a hand through his spiky hair, he sighed in delight. A night of peaceful sleep next to the pale being had certainly cleared his mind. While he was far from seeing how it was normal or acceptable, he recognized his feelings for what they were. He wanted Vincent. Plain and simple. All his drooling stares and consumed thoughts about the gunman were his desires. It was no different than if Vincent were a beautiful woman, except for his understanding of it all. But, sometimes he didn't have to understand his heart in order to follow it.

Kneeling on the bed, the mattress sunk beneath his weight. Hovering above the furled body, Cloud paused and relished in the rare view. The day before he wouldn't have dared to approach Vincent, even when they were sharing a tent. Now, he brashly straddled the slim figure and stared intently.

'Praise the Ancients!' his mind cried, 'How can one person, a man no less, be so beautiful?'

With a tender curiosity, he sat back and moved to the side of the sleeping body. Reaching a hand out, he brushed his fingers across a pale cheek. It felt so soft and warm under his calloused tips. The dark haired creature before him stirred slightly. Not caring whether Vincent woke up or not, Cloud kept his hand in place. It was a thrilling new sense of freedom to take the liberty of doing exactly what he wanted to do. As his eyes focused on red lips his thumb brushed across them. Just then, dark lashes fluttered open to reveal crimson orbs staring at him in question.

Cloud could see Vincent's body tense suddenly, drawing away slightly. The blond leader could not take it any longer, as he saw the same unguarded look on the man's face as he had the moment he'd lifted the coffin lid. Smoothly entwining his fingers in that silken raven hair again, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Vincent's.

It started out simple with no further intentions. But at the touch of such soft lips, Cloud was having trouble not deepening the kiss. Vincent was more than a little surprised, but made no move to shove the blond off.

Wanting to taste the gunman, Cloud sucked on the Vincent's bottom lip. The surprised gasp this wrought from the other gave him the chance to move further and taste more. The introverted man was mildly responsive to his indulging intrusion. With a hesitant uncertainty, the pale beauty moved those red lips and silky wet tongue against his own. Cloud was lost. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. So warm and wet, it was intoxicating. He never wanted to stop.

It would have lasted until they'd both passed out from lack of air if Vincent hadn't managed to break away. Licking his lips, Cloud looked down at the flushed and panting man beneath him. Oh, how he wanted to do it again. But a reminding echo of Aeris' voice scolded him otherwise. If he couldn't have sex with Vincent, then he probably couldn't make out with the crimson-eyed man either.

"Good morning," he greeted brightly.

"Is that how you would normally greet me in the morning?" Vincent asked, slightly breathless and a bit on guard from such strange new actions.

Taking on a serious tone, Cloud answered the slightly sarcastic question, "It could be."

A dark eyebrow quirked in question while red eyes narrowed slightly. "Please, do not pity me."

Pulling away slightly, Cloud never broke eye contact. "Pity you?"

"I appreciate your kindness, and it truly has consoled me. But, there is no need to push yourself," Vincent elaborated.

A wary heat crept to the back of the spiky haired man's neck, as he furrowed his brows in thought. Vincent's meaning was unclear. Cloud feared that Aeris' words from before were in reference to whatever the gunman was talking about now. It was disheartening to not have the same response to such a heated and passionate exchange. He must have gotten ahead of himself if he'd thought that Vincent's lack of refusal meant his feelings were returned.

Afraid to deal with matters he knew nothing about, Cloud changed the topic. "Aeris has important information about Hojo. She wants us to meet her in her cabin in fifteen minutes."

With eyes of pure crimson and narrowly visible pupils, Vincent shot forward and looked earnestly at Cloud. It was obvious he was ready to go that very moment.

* * *

It was surprising to see just how hard Aeris had been searching the night before. Cloud had known nothing of it and felt slightly guilty at having Aeris shoulder all the responsibility. Folders, journals, and papers were strewn about the dresser, bed, and small sitting table at the center of the room. So much reading material must have required her undivided attention for the entire night.

They could hear the water running in the bathroom. Aeris had said fifteen minutes, and after Cloud's enjoyable wakeup call for Vincent, they'd still arrived a few minutes early.

Seeing the apprehensive way those red eyes glanced at the various documents that were Hojo's, Cloud felt compelled to ask an important question. "Is it alright that I'm here with you?"

The gentle spirit of their leader kept the young man from being too blunt with his words. But, Vincent understood his meaning. Letting others know his sins was never something he'd planned on. The Ancient already knew, if the strewn about manner of all the papers was any indication. He supposed that if anyone was going to be allowed in on the private matter it should be the leader of this group he'd joined. Besides, the great lengths the blond went to try and be nice to him were admirable if only a little unnecessary.

Thinking the question over to himself while he surveyed the room, Vincent decided it would be for the best if the blond knew the truth. The tense pleading for assent in those bright eyes threw Vincent off guard. He didn't understand where such sincerity came from. It was over the top compared to the kind hearted looks of tolerance from everyone else. "It is fine," he replied at length.

* * *

An hour later, Aeris sat propped up against the headboard of her bed. Weary from the night before, she intended to sleep after this meeting. She was biting her lip harshly and willing herself not to cry as she watched the fleeting expressions cross Vincent's face.

It was probably not the best way to go about it, but she could think of no better one. She had collected a decent sized stack of journals and medical papers that summed up the two years of extensive torture and experimenting Hojo had done on the gunman.

Vincent read over the files, confused and uncomprehending expressions marring his angelic features. Once the gunman was finished with one document, he'd move on to another one and Cloud would pick it up and follow the trail. Cloud's expressions and frequent outbursts were rather different in comparison to Vincent's reactions. The blond fighter would stand up with his eyes glued to the page before him, while he stalked in disbelief and muttered a string of dark curses.

The basic gist of Hojo's entire scheme had been mind alteration. Aeris cringed at the sick and twisted nature of the scientist. Hojo had set about embodying a human soul with the darkest and most painful feelings. The madman had made constant note of the progress he'd made. At varying points he'd mentioned the stubborn will of the Turk and how brainwashing was a tricky task. The main ideas that Hojo ingrained in Vincent's head were self-loathing and the understanding that the gunman was a terrible scar on the underbelly of the world. The files expressed in rather eloquent and disturbing terms the way in which Vincent viewed himself.

The part that Aeris had first began to cry at, was when Hojo started to express his desires for Vincent. At first it had been only evident in the frequent reference to the gunman's pleasing appearance. But, all too soon, somewhere around the eleventh month, Hojo had begun to describe his sexual escapades and raping of the imprisoned man.

The pictures of a bruised and battered Vincent sent Cloud over the edge at one point, and Aeris had to calm him down.

Eventually they all sat in silence, afraid to speak the wrong words.

Vincent spoke first, voicing his only concern in the matter. "I suppose I should be relieved that Sephiroth is not my son. I had been wondering how I was going to fight against him. Though he is still Lucrecia's child."

Cloud's jaw dropped. He hadn't the slightest clue that Vincent had been under that assumption. Hojo's journal had only mentioned it briefly, and he hadn't thought much of it. Even so, such a matter bore little weight in comparison with the disturbing events contained within the many pages. It had been far worse than he could have ever imagined. The whole group had assumed that Vincent was naturally standoffish and suffering from a broken heart and lost love.

Never had it crossed Cloud's mind that beneath that cloak was a broken man with frighteningly distorted perception of himself and world around him. Hojo had conditioned Vincent to believe that he was being tortured and put through so much pain because he'd deserved it. Cloud didn't think it was possible to make someone believe anything when that person knew the truth. But, two years of drugs, pain, rape, torture, and constant reminders of untold sins was surely one way to do so.

"Vincent," Aeris spoke cautiously, "Do you understand that you have done nothing wrong?"

Red eyes snapped up suddenly. A sardonic chuckle escaped him. "It would be too easy to repent by resolving that I'd done no wrong."

"No, how can you say that?" she asked desperately. She had feared that even after reading Hojo's own sinister methods that he wouldn't see the truth. "Hojo lied to you. You haven't done anything wrong. It was his sick game."

"I cannot waver in my repentance for a moment. I have done terrible things, and if I believe otherwise, then I have only committed yet another sin," he replied solidly, slightly raising his narrow chin to show his firm belief.

"That's not right!" Cloud shouted, unable to accept any of it. Vincent's words were ridiculous, but they were spoken with serious belief. "You've done nothing wrong! Hojo made it all up!"

The ex-Soldier wanted to shout the obvious truth into the gunman's ear and make him believe it. With a halting stop, Cloud tensed. He'd just realized that his desire to make Vincent see the truth held a sickening similarity to Hojo's forceful instilment of lies.

"Vincent," Aeris tried again, but was stopped when Cloud held a hand up to her.

Standing up, Cloud moved towards Vincent, who sat on the other end of the small table. It had been a rare moment of higher clarity for the blond. He often only felt this sure of himself when in battle. Perhaps this wasn't so different from a battle though.

Aeris watched in confusion, as Cloud's entire demeanor seemed to change. At that moment, he turned into the man that lead them into battle and decided what was best for their group.

Vincent sensed the change in Cloud and acted accordingly. He sat and waited for Cloud to speak.

No words were necessary for his next actions. Cloud braced his hands on either armrest of Vincent's chair and leaned down. With his face inches apart, Cloud looked fiercely into slightly widened red eyes. Without wavering in his stern and piercing gaze, Cloud brought their lips together. Slowly, the blond worked his way to eliciting a response. It didn't take long for him to build their sensual kiss into a bruising mashing of lips and tongues. Cloud explored Vincent's mouth without mercy, harshly driving the raven-haired man into consensual submission.

With regret and stern resolve, Cloud ended their kiss. Locking his eyes with Vincent's once more he spoke, "We won't tell you what to believe. We will hunt Hojo down and that bastard will tell you in his own words, the truth he has kept from you. Then you will see for yourself."

Aeris was staring in shocked silence. She had dared not interrupt their intimate display for several reasons. One of those being Cloud had a serious determination about him that she was afraid to stop. And another was that watching them had brought a flush of embarrassed excitement to her face.

When Cloud spoke, a crashing reality came to her. They could sit here all day and reiterate the truth to Vincent over and over. But, in the end, Vincent had to find out for himself. Otherwise they would be using a similar, though far less sadistic and sick, way as Hojo.

Vincent would have to see Hojo again, if he was ever going to be freed.

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Not the Enemy

Coming back from their single day of farewells and leisure, no one aboard the Highwind felt as though the end was drawing near. Even as they rode the ship towards the Northern Crater, it didn't feel as though the final battle were at hand.

Cloud seemed rather aloof, staring vacantly through the viewing windows near the helm.

For the occasion Cid had lit a cigar. Far from celebrating just yet, the older blond was simply enjoying a nice smoke.

From picking Yuffie up in Wutai, they were making a beeline for the crater. All intelligence told them that Sephiroth was at this location. It wasn't as though the ex-Soldier had kept his activities secret. Sephiroth was angry at the world, with every intention to destroy it. Reigning destruction down on every living being wasn't exactly the sort of vengeful action that could be kept quiet.

Solemnly, Cloud stood with his arms crossed and his features set impassively.

Cid watched in mild interest as the spiky haired boy stood in silence. They were only a half hour out, and then they'd be going in for the grand finale.

Leaning slightly against the wheel, Cid inhaled deeply, enjoying the long drag. It wasn't that any of them thought that this might be the end, but win or lose, their lives were going to change drastically.

Vincent was holed up in Aeris' room, searching through the mounds of papers and journals. Since the meeting between the three members earlier, they hadn't spoken of the matter.

Cloud had stridden from the room, his stature confident and determined. Vincent had been left bereft with reddened lips that glistened from the kiss the blond warrior had given him. And poor Aeris was left blushing with no idea what to do.

In the end, Aeris had contented herself to get some rest. Vincent's presence was actually more soothing to her than bothersome. Whether it was the calming reassurance that her rest was well guarded or the fact that she'd worn herself out entirely, she fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow.

As the morning waned more members of the band filled the ship. Smiles graced everyone's faces before they marked their final destination. However, happy faces became solemn while each fighter contended with the gravity of the finality battle.

Vincent was an exception to this general mood. Pouring over scribbled and typed texts, he felt apprehensive and miserable.

With any luck, Dr. Hojo would be at the crater. There was a facility there, built by ShinRa. If Hojo were an opportunist, then being near Sephiroth for observations would be irresistible, though none too wise.

It had taken Cloud some time to form a plan. They needed Vincent for the final battle, this was unmistakably certain. However, there was too much of a risk that once they killed Sephiroth, Hojo would leave or also die. There was no telling how much destruction Sephiroth would reign down before they stopped him, nor the consequences to anyone near by.

* * *

ShinRa must have set up the facility in the Northern Crater a long time ago. While the land structure itself remained a large volcanic crater, the research lab built into the base of it made the place seem like ShinRa's headquarters.

After much debate, it was decided that Vincent would split from the group and go after Hojo solo. Cloud had been the most reluctant, not liking the possibility of what could happen. However, the blond leader had played his concern out in strategic terms, focusing on the fact that the gunman was an important force for the final battle.

The raven-haired gunman was dropped off at the base of the crater. Cloud watched with an oppressing sense of unease as the ramp began to close. It was only his grim determination to go after Sephiroth that kept him from accompanying the pale gunman.

Crimson eyes stared resolutely into the Mako enhanced blue of the swordsman. The airship stirred gusts of wind, sending long dark strands of the vampire's hair about. That long red cloak flapped against the lonesome form standing below.

Before the pale beauty could vanish from sight, behind the closed hull, Cloud saw Vincent turn on foot and walk away.

The blond definitely didn't like the feeling he had in the pit of his stomach, but there was nothing he could do.

* * *

Vincent strode cautiously through the main entrance. The unlocked set of large fifteen-foot high steel doors opened automatically. Sliding into empty slots on either side, seemingly disappearing into the rocky hillside. The change form cobbled ground and misted air to the symmetrically cut corridors of metal was immediate. Out of place, the facility did not belong at all.

The gunman's footsteps echoed hollowly through the dim corridors of a monotonous grayish tinge. There was no reason behind the path he chose, other than to move forward and eventually find what he was looking for.

It had been a difficult revelation to cope with, learning that Sephiroth was not his son. Thus far, the only sin he knew of committing was murdering Lucrecia and condemning their child to a life of experimentation. However, if the child was not his, then how was the silver haired woman's death his fault? There must have been more to it. There were many lies contained within those journals, which meant Sephiroth might still be his son.

He'd considered the spiky blond's words carefully. The idea that it had all been some game to the doctor, that he was innocent. But, if that were the case, then he'd suffered for no reason. That just couldn't be. His life was riddled with blood because of sins he'd committed.

And, even if Lucrecia's death was not upon his hands, he hadn't saved her, which was just as bad. The child she'd bore, the crazed killer they sought to destroy, was still a once innocent soul that he'd take vengeance for. Hojo had used Lucrecia's son in an unforgivable manner, wasting the sacrifice she made.

Determined to settle the matter, and return to his life of imprisoned repentance, Vincent clutched his gun to his chest. He had to remind himself that he was there on Lucrecia's behalf, not his own. While Chaos cried out for a different kind of justice, he fought back and reasoned that he didn't deserve the privilege of knowing what his sins were exactly. All he needed to know was that he was an evil soul that must atone for the rest of eternity.

The further Vincent traveled, the darker his path seemed to become. The only lighting came from spaced safety lights at the sides on the floor. They were dim and seemed to become further apart each time.

The gunman was not afraid of darkness, since it was what he was, but if he were to lose his sense of place and delay his time, then he might not be able to aide the others in battle.

Never faltering in his gliding steps, the dark cloak sashaying slightly with the subtle movement, Vincent strode on with confidence that even without his help, Cloud could defeat Sephiroth.

Eventually, when all light seemed to have slipped away without his noticing, the gunman came to a dead end. For the first time he questioned his choice in direction. Gently running his unmarred hand along the cold metal wall, he leaned his head forward to feel the same coolness against his forehead.

Chaos was becoming unruly, more difficult to silence than ever before. The darkness was crying out, shouting for blood and justice.

He knew he could not listen to the beast within him. As it was, his sins were so numerous and terrible that a lifetime of atonement was hardly a beginning to achieve forgiveness. And, if he were to listen to the beast, give into the darkness once again, then he'd surely become the devil himself.

With a steadying breath, he clutched his gun more tightly and pushed off from the wall.

Turning around, he prepared to backtrack and find a new route. However, before he could take a single step, the hiss of compressed air being released echoed through the shadowed hall.

Glancing back, he saw a crack in the wall, a sliver of light traveling straight down the center.

Defensively facing the wall again, he watched as the split halves parted. The dead end was nothing but a closed door.

Crimson eyes narrowed in suspicion. From the almost welcomed entrance at the main doors of the facility to the inviting opening of these ones, he was beginning to wonder how much of this was set up. Someone was obviously watching him, waiting for him.

Burrowing his pale face beneath his collar, he proceeded as cautious as ever. His shadowed eyes darted around quickly, taking in as much of the room as he could.

There were three large screens at the end opposite his position now. The monitors were angled to face downwards, and long panel of some operating system ran along the wall beneath. There were four anchored chairs, cold and uncomfortable looking just like the rest of the large metallic room. The ceiling was twice as high, running upwards a good two stories upwards, while the walls were spaced apart enough to accommodate the Highwind's girth.

The fact that of the four chairs only one was turned away did not escape Vincent's attention.

The sudden lighting up of the three large screens set the gunman on guard, causing him to take a step back and crouch slightly. His confused eyes scanned the room frantically as his own image was displayed on those monitors. His disgusting face, ten times the normal size, enough to make a person gag.

Uncertain whether the doctor could hear him, perhaps the whole facility was wired, Vincent called out, "Doctor Hojo"

In a slightly expected manner, the chair on the far left swiveled around. Reclining leisurely, with his legs crossed was the mad scientist himself.

Eyes that Vincent knew were black as coal were hidden behind the glinting lenses of the man's glasses. As the doctor stood from his seat, the white lab coat ruffled with an all too familiar sound. The man was older, much older, but somehow the same. There were a few more wrinkles, but those cheeks were as hollow as ever. The scientist didn't seem to stand as tall, but the feeling of being towered over remained.

"Vincent," Hojo's gruff and unhinged voice spoke in greeting.

Vincent felt a fleeting moment of fear as the doctor took a step closer, a booted foot clanking against the grated flooring around the chairs. Fear was not something he'd felt in a long time. When his eyes caught sight of his own frightened demeanor on the screen, he cursed inwardly and furrowed his chin lower behind his cloak. Clutching Peacemaker closer he reminded himself that he was there to kill the doctor.

With greasy tendrils of graying black hair escaping its ponytail, Hojo shook his head and frowned at his creation. "I visited the manner recently," the doctor spoke amicably, though the stern manner in which his squared jaw moved spoke otherwise.

Swallowing thickly, Vincent shivered involuntarily. Between the coldness that crept down his spine and the heated rage of Chaos within, the gunman was having a difficult time keeping focus.

"You were not where I left you," Hojo continued, his voice dropping a note.

Rooted in place, the crimson-eyed man flinched against the strong surge of Chaos. The beast had never given him so much trouble, not even when he was around the scientist all those years ago.

Breathing heavily, Vincent felt his walls breaking down. Angrily, he reacted with the emotions of Chaos. The heavy cloak flapped as he deftly leveled his gun in a flash. His mark was the madman's head. With no question of whether his aim was true, his finger twitched on the trigger. It would seem the darkness within him no longer cared for answers, just blood.

"Oh?" Hojo intoned in question of the clawed creature's actions. "I guess you still haven't learned your lesson," he said in a hinting manner.

Gritting his teeth, Vincent's hand tensed up. Without firing, he abruptly lowered the weapon. Controlling Chaos once more, he breathed out an exasperated breath. "I will kill you for what you've done to Lucrecia," he spoke solemnly.

With a scoff, Hojo refuted, "Don't you mean what _you've_ done?"

"It wasn't my child," Vincent reasoned, losing confidence in what was the truth.

"Perhaps," the man admitted. With a yellow grin, he gave off a biting laugh. "But, if you hadn't twisted her heart around, she would have survived." His words were smooth and soundly spoken, as though teaching the gunman an important lesson.

"Twisted her heart?" the gunman questioned automatically.

"Yes," Hojo hissed out, taking a few more steps towards the Turk he'd had so much fun playing with. And it was far from over. All that time spent conditioning the lovely man, was to lead to this day, this moment. Chaos was so close to being ready, to being unleashed.

"Shall I take pity on you?" the crooked tooth scientist questioned.

Crimson eyes widened. Pity was something he didn't deserve. Hojo often asked if he should be given leniency and pity, but he'd learned to accept what was right. "Never," he replied quickly, holstering his gun.

The doctor began to chuckle, quietly at first but the sound erupted from his throat into a fit of amused laughter. "Always so obedient," Hojo whispered huskily. Stepping even closer, the scientist drew near enough to touch his wonderful creation. Reaching out, he slipped short, stubby fingers past the silky curtain of raven hair and touched the tortured soul's cheek. "You deserve this," he said.

"Yes," Vincent whispered, forcing Chaos down and remaining in place. But, he still had to avenge Lucrecia. What did Hojo mean about it being his fault. "Lucrecia-" he began, but a harsh slap silenced him.

"You lured her into a life of sin," Hojo spat. Returning his hand to cup the now reddened cheek, he caressed the soft skin. "With your beauty, you enchanted her. She was blind to your darkness, what you truly are. But, I saw it. I was too late to save her though. She believed she was in love with you, and when she learned of your true nature, the sinful beast that you are, she couldn't bare to live." Gripping the finely cut chin, narrow and delicate, Hojo squeezed tightly to further grab the creature's attention. Those eyes, that burned with fire and danced with Chaos, spurred him on. "Because of you, she died, unable to even live for her beloved son. And without a mother, how do you suppose Sephiroth was raised? My poor son has been driven mad because of what you've done."

Vincent's heart clenched. He hadn't known. "I didn't know," he whispered sorrowfully. Earnestly, he looked to the doctor. "It was my fault?" he questioned. All this time, he'd been harboring such hatred for this man who he'd deemed cruel and ruthless. But, it was in fact his entire fault. Hojo had done nothing wrong.

"You're a disgusting creature," Hojo spoke sternly, his jagged nails cut into the succulent flesh of the gunman's cheeks. "Someone needs to control you, to make sure that you pay for what you've done."

Chaos surged. "What have I done?" Vincent asked desperately, wanting to know what atrocities he'd committed.

As the doctor's head tilted forward, his dark eyes became visible from behind his glasses. Brows furrowed in anger, he snarled, "Do you think you deserve to know? Do you deserve such pity?"

Crimson eyes widened. "No," Vincent whispered immediately, regretting his lapse in control. "This beast," he clutched his chest, "inside of me, I can't stop it. I don't want to hurt anymore people," he tried to explain.

Hojo hummed with pleasure. "The beast rages?" he questioned with avid interest, his dark eyes widening.

"All the time," Vincent admitted.

A wild grin spread across the haggard looking scientist's face. "Then it's time," Hojo concluded with a giddy inflection.

Warily, Vincent spoke, "Time for what?" His mind was muddled, between the opposing sides within and the realization that Hojo was not his enemy. How could he have been so blind? Dear, sweet, Lucrecia had suffered so greatly because of the monster he was. What a horrible fate for such a loving woman. Without a doubt, he was truly a monster.

"I've tried to suppress the darkness in you, calm it. However, I realize that such methods are not effective. I've been too kind with you. I'm afraid I can only resort to having complete control." Hiding the pleased smile, the doctor turned around and stalked closer to the chairs and control panel.

Unsure of himself, Vincent took a few steps to follow. As his arms fell limply at his side, covered by his long cloak, his right hand brushed against his holstered gun. Images of shooting Hojo filled his mind, the want to take revenge rekindling. Red eyes fell sadly to the metallic floor. Even now he was so horrible that he'd kill the one person who knew what he truly was, the one person who was trying to put an end to the terrible things he'd do if let free. Tears swelled in his eyes. He was wretched, harboring such ill will towards doctor Hojo. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Back turned and hands resting in the pockets of his white coat, Hojo spoke with false sincerity, "No, Vincent. I'm sorry. If I could bring myself to killing you, I would. But, it wouldn't be right, and that would weigh on my conscience. You must repent for your sins, and death would be too good for you. I wish there was another way."

Guilt crushed out the muffled cries of Chaos. Tears streamed down the gunman's face. "No," he refuted, his voice cracking, "You're too kind. I cannot ask for forgiveness."

"I'm glad you understand," the doctor said, turning his head away and staring up at the large screens. Seeing such sadness in those watered eyes drove him wild. His pants felt tight. If the beast within the former Turk were raging, then he'd soon become its master. "Now, strip," he ordered.

TBC….

A/N Wow, it's been a long time since I last updated for this story. I'm really sorry about that. I'm finished with the other story that was taking up my focus, so this will become my next project. It won't be a very long story, so for anyone waiting on the sequel to Protecting the Lion, you won't have to wait long. Oh, and this is kind of a mean cliffhanger, so I'd like to say that I'll be updating really soon, within a day or two at the most. Now that this story is my sole focus, I'll be updating on a regular basis, I promise!


	7. Chapter 7

**WARNING**: This chapter contains explicit content. If you do not want to read anything pertaining to non-consensual sex (a.k.a. rape), then do not read.

Chapter Seven

Chaos Released

"So, why's Vincent going that way?" Yuffie pointed down towards the floor of the Highwind's cabin, "When we're going this way?" With her other hand, she pointed upwards.

"Because, he's going to see if Hojo's in ShinRa's research facility," Tifa answered with a huff. How many times did they need to have a single conversation in order for everyone to hear?

"Why'd go alone?" the ninja questioned.

"Because," Tifa began with an air of impatience, "He's always been after Hojo. Hojo is like Vincent's Sephiroth. Though, it'd be nice if he helped us first," she pouted.

"It can't be helped," Cloud soothed. "We'll be fine without him."

Aeris came up beside the spiky blond. "But, I wonder if he'll be alright without us," she whispered her concern just loud enough for the younger man to hear.

"We can't solve everything perfectly," the blond reasoned. "Sephiroth takes priority. Besides, the only person who needs to hear the truth is Vincent. Hojo's a coward. If a gun is pointed at his head, he'll have no chance of fighting back."

"Cloud," the brown haired woman said softly. She could tell their leader was upset about the decision. It was risky. "What if we just waited until after the battle?"

Mako blue eyes stared off, fiercely burning holes into the mountainside that flew past the window. "I can't make him fight if he thinks Sephiroth is his son. How could I make him do that?"

"But, Hojo's journals said-" Aeris began, but a harsh glare from the blond silenced her.

"Why would he believe that when he doesn't believe the rest of it?" Cloud reasoned. "I've already thought about this. Please just leave it."

A worried expression pulled the kind woman's face into a frown. "There's no telling what'll happen if he's with Hojo again," she whispered desperately, wanting to shout but not willing to instill concern in the others.

"If he's so weak then maybe he deserves it," Cloud spat. The only solution was to have the madman reverse Vincent's conditioning. The ex-Soldier knew this. He knew after speaking with the pale gunman that the warped mindset was deeply ingrained, and could only be undone by the actual instigator. Yet, after growing accustomed to relying on the newest member for advice, he'd come to look up to the man. To find out that Vincent was actually being controlled like some puppet, to take it sitting down and even accepting it, it enraged the swordsman.

He was being selfish, but he couldn't help but feel anger not just towards Hojo, but Vincent as well. The red-eyed man had joined them, and all too quickly, he'd become infatuated by the man's mysterious past and unearthly beauty. Now, his heart and mind reached out to the gunman. But, in the end, nothing was easy, because Vincent was broken. It wasn't fair that he felt like this for someone like Vincent. After all he'd gone through, shouldn't he be attracted to someone like Tifa or Aeris? They would bring him happiness, whereas the gunman would simply refuse him on the grounds that it was all pity.

The inwardly focused members of the defending group were all startled from their internal reveries by the resounding slap given to their leader. Cid, Yuffie, Tifa and Barrett all turned with shocked expressions to stare at the spectacle.

Cloud's head barely turned, and he didn't even seem to have flinched from the action.

Aeris' eyebrows were creased with anger. "You sound like Hojo!" she yelled before turned and running from the large cabin.

At this remark, Cloud's eyes widened.

Cid's head turned to follow the movement of the mild mannered Ancient. Her footsteps echoed as she sprinted down the narrow corridor and out of sight.

"What was that about?" the pilot asked. Giving an impressed whistle he commented further, "I didn't know she had it in her."

"Cloud just got slapped by Aeris," Yuffie pointed out the obvious.

Barrett, who stood beside the small ninja, gave a grunt of acknowledgement. With a deep chuckle, he crossed his muscled arms and turned away. While the dark skinner gunner didn't know what Hojo would have sounded like, he assumed the incident had something to do with the spiky blond kid trying to make a move on the mature flower girl. No doubt the poor swordsman had failed miserably and botched it up. "Let's leave matchmaking until after we save the world," he said in a baritone voice.

Yuffie began to giggle while Tifa scowled.

Cid however, gave an uneasy look from their leader back towards the now vacant corridor behind the helm. Barrett was right about one thing, they should leave all matters that didn't involve defeating Sephiroth until after the battle. "Where's Red?" he asked, trying to lessen the suddenly tense atmosphere.

All too soon for the pilot's peace of mind, the Ancient's footsteps sounded in hurried return.

"Nanaki's gone," Aeris cried forth. Coming into view, she waved a piece of paper. Scrawled on it, the penmanship obviously unpracticed, were the tiger's words of good luck. "He's gone to take care of his own business," she said earnestly, implying that she knew exactly what that business was. Nanaki left to see Hojo with Vincent.

Jaw set firmly, Cloud stared at the worried woman. Locking eyes with Aeris, he spoke resolutely, "We move forward."

"But-" Aeris began, but Barrett cut her off.

"It'll only take three of us," the burly man stated soundly, "If they left to go after that science guy, then it's all the better. We can't use them in battle if they ain't thinking straight."

With an agreeing nod, Cloud turned on foot and continued to stare out the window.

The note clutched in her hand, Aeris sighed in defeat. At least, if the two of them were together, she could worry a little less about Vincent meeting Hojo. It was somewhat of a relief.

However, the wise flower girl now had another matter to burden her mind. Cloud's previously understanding and accepting manner towards Vincent had turned into something else. The swordsman obviously resented the fact that Vincent took the crazy doctor's words foremost.

It just went to show, everyone had his or her immature sides. Though the unanimously appointed leader had grown a lot, no longer cocky and foolhardy, he was still an ex-Soldier who had known little else aside from fighting. The fact that he remained completely oblivious to Tifa's affections was further proof.

With resolve, Aeris promised to help Cloud along after the battle. She'd already opened his eyes to his none too suppressed feelings for the gunman, now she had to help him cope with that. Left alone, those feelings of longing and want might turn into something that Cloud didn't understand or couldn't deal with.

* * *

Apprehension and fear filled Vincent as the doctor waited for him to obey. When those dark eyes showed impatience, he gave a small nod of understanding.

Hesitantly, the raven-haired gunman grasped the clasp on his cloak. It was odd that he should feel such distress over it all when he was obviously being helped. Hojo would control Chaos, and he wouldn't have to worry about hurting anyone or anything.

Still, even after looking at the reasonable side, he was unable to rid himself of these protesting feelings. He spoke up, "Why?"

"Because you're a monster, and the beast will take over soon! Now strip!" Hojo shouted, running a hand along the front of his tented pants.

Flinching back, Vincent gripped his cloak more tightly. He didn't want to do it. That feeling of exposure was all too similar to when he'd been strapped to the surgical table without clothes. But, that had been for his own good too, he had no right to feel this way.

Brows furrowed, the pale gunman slowly unbuttoned his cloak. The garment was almost like a safe haven, and the moment it dropped to the ground, he took an involuntary step backwards.

Vincent knew Hojo's words were true, because these feelings of disobedience were no longer coming from just Chaos. Even his sound mind, the part that knew he should be heeding the doctor, felt uneasy. Chaos must have been taking over, otherwise he wouldn't have been in agreement with the darkness.

At the prospect of losing control of himself and freely reining down destruction upon innocents, Vincent cringed and forced himself to continue.

'This is wrong,' the darkness in his mind cried out. 'Kill him!' it ordered. 'He lies, you've done nothing!'

The voice was growing louder. By the time Vincent dropped the last bit of his clothing to the floor, he had to press his hands against his ears and speak aloud to sooth the beast. "Quiet," he begged, "I can't hurt anyone else. Lucrecia was innocent. No more, no more."

"Does it speak?" Hojo asked earnestly, striding forward.

As the doctor stood before the bared form of his creation, his mouth watered. It had been far too long since he'd last taken the man. Such beautiful skin, it was pale like snow, the perfect contrast for spilt blood. Proportional and lithely muscled, Vincent Valentine was by far the best specimen he'd ever had the pleasure of observing.

"It cries," Vincent whispered, eyes shut against the untamed beast within him.

There was a fleeting moment of fear in the doctor. If Vincent let Chaos take over prematurely, then all might be lost. Reaching out, he grabbed the taller man's slender neck. Squeezing tightly, he watched as crimson eyes stared at him in shock. "You'll do as I say," Hojo ordered. "You must repent."

With a strangled nod, Vincent complied. He must repent.

Dragging the gunman forward, he took the cautionary measure to leave all weapons out of reach. "To your knees," the doctor whispered huskily, releasing the man's neck.

Staggering slightly, Vincent dropped to his knees. The air was cold against his bare skin. He felt so exposed after becoming used to wearing clothes again. He longed to wrap himself up in his cloak and defy the doctor, but he couldn't. Every breath became forced as Vincent fought against his unruly side.

With a grunt of approval, Hojo slid his hand along Vincent's sinewy back as he walked around the exposed figure. Fisting the long strands of hair in his other hand, he jerked the man's head back. Roughly, he grabbed the bandana that the gunman had forgotten to remove. Throwing it aside, he released his hold and shoved the pale man forward.

The gunman's nerves felt skittish, his muscles not working calmly with all the adrenaline that ran through them. Each second that passed he found it harder to comply. When his hands touched the ground, the cold flooring switching to the grated vents closer to the control panel, he caved into the desire to not go along.

"No, wait," Vincent spoke. He wasn't certain what Hojo was going to do, but considering his naked and prostrated state, he could venture a fair guess. "What will this do?" he asked.

In all the times it had happened before, his mind had only thought to voice protests. However, now that he'd been talked into going this far, he needed a reason behind it. Otherwise, it would be no different than every other time the scientist had taken him. There must have been some scientific reasoning for Hojo penetrating him roughly and leaving behind seeping fluid. If Vincent were to finally understand it, then he might not feel so opposed. "Why do you have to do this?" he questioned again when his only answer was a pair of hands gripping his buttocks.

Vincent couldn't help it. His mind shut down and his body reacted on its own. Scrambling forward, he moved out of Hojo's reach. "Wait," he repeated.

As much of a frenzy as his body was in, trying to move away while also trying to stay in place, his mind was in an even worse state. Frantically, he thought for some legitimate excuse. "I can be sealed again," he stated, turning around. The vented flooring was the least of his uncomfortable worries.

"Sealed?" Hojo questioned with anger. The doctor was torn between the heightened lust at watching the pale man fall apart while fleeing and disapproval over such disobedience. When last he'd left this specimen, the ex-Turk had been well broken. The restraints he'd always used had hardly been needed, and that was while the man had harbored the want for revenge. "I'm afraid that won't do," he said solemnly, stepping closer.

"But, it worked before. For thirty years I've thought about what I've done, and I couldn't escape," Vincent's words almost sounded like he was giving the doctor a background for his resume.

"Ahh," the lusting man hissed out in a scolding reprimand, "All those years, and yet you came here today in order to kill me. Left alone, your mind will start to believe terrible lies. How could you possibly think I would have hurt Lucrecia? You are so very twisted, my dear Valentine." A throaty chuckle left him upon uttering that last bit in a sarcastic manner.

"I…." Curling into himself, Vincent meagerly covered what was so distressingly exposed. He couldn't think of anything to say. He had no excuses for the conclusions he'd surmised while placed under suspended animation. "I didn't know," he mumbled, "I loved her."

"Love?" Hojo barked incredulously. Striding forward, he bent down to the pale form. Grasping raven strands of hair harshly again, he yanked the gunman forward. "You aren't capable of it. It was greed and jealousy that made you lure my wife away. And then, you tried to do it with me!"

Vincent bit back a grunt of pain as his hair strained against its roots. "Please, let me go back to my coffin," he pleaded. His body was betraying him, his lips forming words without consulting his conscience. His eyes strayed to his pile of clothing, in which his gun was covered. 'Kill him!' Chaos screamed.

Though he knew he would regret it, that he'd feel all the more guilt ridden for it, he tried to escape again, to shift closer to his cloak and Peacemaker. However, as he struggled to tear his head from the fierce grip, the doctor yanked him back. Balance lost, he fell forward. His upper body was held aloft the ground by the hair in Hojo's hold.

The frantically mixed up gunman had no idea what to do. His body kept switching between two sets of orders. Chaos would not relinquish the idea of vengeance, even though he now knew such actions were wrong. And, his sane side, the part that knew right from wrong, was beginning to agree with the beast. It wasn't right, but he couldn't make his body listen.

No sooner could the gunman consider how best to fight back, his training as a Turk no use when his mind was in such disarray, than his face was suddenly pressed against the floor. The grated bars dug into his cheek. Immediately, he tried to push back. He managed enough to raise his head away, but the booted foot against the nape of his neck kept him from anything more. Gritting his teeth, he tried to push back harder, but it was futile. He let his head fall back, this time he turned to rest with his other cheek pressed to the grate. He could see his the open door, and his pile of clothes.

"Are you thinking of killing me again?" Hojo's voice questioned, thick with lust.

Vincent squeezed his eyes shut. Reaching a hand out he tried to stretch his arm closer, but he still fell short a good six feet or so.

Laughter filled the room, echoing off the high walls as the doctor threw his head back.

A pained groan erupted from the gunman's throat as his face was pushed against the grate, the parallel bars cutting into his cheek. The foot was lifted only to land harshly against his lower back. A squeezing hand held the back of his neck as Hojo straddled him.

The amused scientist rest atop the thin form, pinning the struggling creature down. In a fair fight, the lovely Turk would have killed him a thousand times over already. But, that confused little mind just couldn't seem to figure out what to do. It was beyond entertaining to see the extent of the damage he'd caused. But, he'd have to end it soon. He had more than one experiment to work with at the moment.

Long ago, Hojo had given up on the prospect of releasing Chaos from within the younger man. After two years of torturing the pitiful soul, he'd seen no results. Though, it had been quite enjoyable. But, it seemed that after thirty years of silent confinement, the devilish beast was thrashing and ready to come forth. How wonderful it would be to possess that power.

Vincent was lost. His heart was torn as he realized that there was no part left inside of him that could possibly be good. Not a shred of innocence. Such had been his secret hope. As he found himself wanting the help of the darkness, he realized that he was the darkness itself. Every word Hojo spoke was true. A monster, a killer, a vampiric being that craved blood, he was nothing more than that.

Red eyes shot open. If that was the true nature of his being, then what use was repentance? How could he seek forgiveness if his soul did not recognize he'd been in the wrong?

'Kill him!' Chaos cried.

Vincent replied, "Okay" His voice was hollow, void of human inflection.

As Vincent renewed his struggles, very nearly bucking back enough to throw the doctor's weight off, his eyes caught sight of something. Going still, the gunman stared wide-eyed towards the darkened doorway at the other end of the spacious room.

Red XIII stared in momentary shock. The silent gunman who never seemed without masses of clothing was lying naked and prone beneath Dr. Hojo.

Before Vincent could mumble out the tiger's name, a sudden burst of pain erupted through him. Torn inside and out, split in two, the unanticipated thrust of Hojo inside of him caused him to cry out. Back arched, he clawed forward, desperately trying to get away. Just as his clawed hand managed to take a firm hold, forcing its way between the grated bars on the floor, the doctor pulled out and thrust back in.

An inhuman cry wrought forth from Vincent's throat. Anguish and pain riddled the demonic sound, echoing impossibly loud. Searing pain coursed through his body.

Before another thrust could be given, the presence of the doctor was abruptly missing. Falling limply to the ground, the gunman panted. The cold rough surface he lay on didn't even register. The feral growl nearby, however, managed to pull his attention.

Turning his head, the gunman saw the lame form of the doctor with Red XIII standing atop the man. The tiger's sharp claws dug deep into the scientist's chest, but with Hojo unconscious, he doubt it mattered.

Without second thought, Vincent pushed off from the floor and stumbled to his clothes. Ignoring the pain, he grabbed his cloak.

Just as he was about to slip into the still warm garment, his human wrist was crushed within a tight grip. Startled at the undetected presence of someone else, Vincent turned with narrowed eyes. His cloak fell back to the floor forgotten.

Staring at the unmistakable curtain of pure silver hair, Vincent saw the man up close for the first time. A smooth, but structured jaw that was neither narrow nor rounded, remained impassive and set. Thin lips betrayed no emotion that those glowing eyes held. The broad form was only slightly taller than his thinner one, yet he seemed to tower much higher.

"Sephiroth," the name left Vincent's lips with a disbelieving tone.

Red XIII bound from the doctor's body immediately, whipping around at the spoken name and charging forth. However, before he could even reach Vincent and the silver haired madman, his world went dark.

Vincent was in shock. One second his hand was held in place with bruising strength and the next, the pressure was gone and Sephiroth was no longer at his side. When a yelp and the sound of Red XIII hitting the wall reached his ears, he once again located the silver haired fighter's presence.

Flexing his right hand, Vincent tested the durability of his wrist. It wasn't broken, just bruised. Forgetting about covering himself, the gunman searched for his weapon. It was odd how easily his body responded to his fighter's instincts around a man like Sephiroth, when he became so confused and useless around Hojo. But, Hojo knew what he truly was, which gave him more fear than facing off with this longhaired killer alone.

Bright aquamarine eyes turned from the limp red cat to the meddlesome doctor. Striding towards the bleeding doctor, Sephiroth stared curiously towards the naked man. He'd seen that face before, a member of Cloud's party. Yes, he recognized that golden-clawed forearm.

Judging from the disgusting erection protruding from the greasy haired man's pants, and the unclad body of the gunman, Sephiroth quickly came to an understanding. It was amusing to see the pale man raise a gun at him.

Chuckling, Sephiroth left the doctor and walked towards the dark haired figure. "And what is your name?" he questioned with interest when he saw those fiery red eyes gleam with bloodlust. Unusually pale skin and a face too delicate to belong to a fighter, the gunman was eye catching.

Vincent ignored the question. Staring avidly at Sephiroth, his mind tried to decide on the best course of action. If the insane swordsmanwere here, then everyone else wouldn't be far behind. Sephiroth wasn't his goal, Hojo was. Even now, knowing the doctor was innocent and that he'd been the one to kill Lucrecia and hurt her child, Vincent couldn't calm his inner demon. He would commit one last cold-blooded murder, and then he'd seal himself away forever.

Coming to his conclusions, Vincent lowered his gun. Sephiroth might be a killer, but he was the one to make the man that way. He had no right to fight him. "I've come to kill Hojo," he stated.

Bright Mako eyes narrowed. "Was that your voice?" Sephiroth questioned. The soft voice he heard now was nowhere near as deep or inhuman as the one he'd heard before.

Not understanding what the silver haired man was referring to, Vincent's finely cut brows drew together. Carefully, his eyes scanned from his injured companion to the also injured doctor. Sadly, he regarded those crazed eyes of the swordsman. Perhaps Sephiroth was hearing voices like he did, demons that cried out for him to do horrible things. If so, then it was his fault.

Before long, the rest of the group would surely arrive and kill Sephiroth. Vincent took the opportunity to apologize, which was all he could do. "I'm sorry for what I've done to you," he whispered softly.

A groan cut through the air. "Damn experiments running all over the place," Hojo grumbled while carefully standing up. With amusement, he brushed his hands across the bloodied lab coat and shirt, feeling the freshly healed skin beneath the torn material. "I see that not all my inventions have gone to waste," he said with a note of complaint.

"Hojo," Sephiroth's deeply commanding voice greeted with ambivalence.

"Sephiroth," the doctor greeted jovially, modestly tucking himself back into his pants. "I'd hoped to watch your battle from here." The doctor gestured towards the large monitors behind him.

"I suppose it would be an interesting sight to see before one dies," the former General spoke with smooth sarcasm. "Your time is wasted Hojo, for I will kill everyone."

"Oh?" the doctor questioned with interest, no traces of fear in the least. "But, you haven't yet. I wonder, is it because something calls to you?"

Aquamarine eyes narrowed. Clad in leather, the tall swordsman's movements sounded with friction. "That voice," the silver haired man whispered.

"Chaos," Hojo said, giving a nodded gesture towards the bare gunman. Licking his lips, he let his eyes remain upon the nude form. One way or another, he'd claim Chaos and the man in which the beast resided.

Vincent watched in confusion. When those coal black eyes raked over his body, he shivered with disgust. Clutching his gun, he steeled his nerves. "My sins will never be forgiven," he spoke solemnly, taking a step forward and raising his gun, "I'm grateful to you Dr. Hojo, and I am sorry." Pulling the trigger, he shot the doctor between the eyes.

Sephiroth watched in amusement. Had he wanted to, he could have stopped the gunman, but it was far more interesting to let the raven-haired man continue. The over confident doctor was indeed dead now, no manner of self-healing capable of working with a clean shot straight through the brain.

As Hojo's body crumpled to the floor face first, red eyes lowered in regret. Tears blurred his vision as he lastly lowered his right arm and dropped his gun with a clatter. Even now Chaos stirred, and there was nothing he could do. Would it never be satisfied? How many sins must he commit before the beast calmed? Being free was too dangerous. He needed to get back to the mansion and seal himself before something else happened.

But, he couldn't trust Red XIII's body to remain untouched before the others arrived. The steady breathing told him the tiger creature was still alive, but considering Sephiroth had been the one to attack the fire tailed feline, there was no certainty that it wouldn't happen again.

"The others will be here soon," Vincent spoke. It was funny how confident he was in Cloud's ability to defeat Sephiroth. It almost felt like a certainty.

"I've seen your group, they are long behind," Sephiroth answered, eyeing Vincent with a keen interest. Taking long strides, he was before the unflinching man in seconds. "You apologized to me," he spoke smoothly in his deep voice, "What for?" Reaching a hand out, he tested the gunman's nerves and swiped at the blood trickling from twin grazes on a pale cheek. The loosely falling hair didn't shift in the least as the puzzling man stood firmly.

Bowed lips frowned at the silver haired man's actions. Vincent felt a fleeting sting at the touch, but such wounds were nothing to concern him. He hesitated in the idea of leaving. If Cloud and the rest of them weren't going to arrive any time soon, then could he just leave Sephiroth unattended? It didn't seem to be in the destructive General's character to flee, but perhaps Sephiroth would grow bored of waiting.

Sephiroth's eyes widened when the curious gunman showed no signs of fear or being effected by him at all. Staring at the crimson liquid on his gloved forefinger, the leather clad swordsman smirked. "Well?" he prompted for an answer.

Vincent delayed in his answer, transfixed with the other's odd behavior. In a thoughtful movement, the taller man darted a tongue out to taste the blood. Crimson eyes widened in turn with the crazed swordsman.

In a movement faster than Vincent's trained eyes could follow, Sephiroth held his face in place and glared at him with such an insane intensity that Vincent felt a wave of fear take over. Chaos stirred wildly again, as though responding to anything that instilled fear.

Before the gunman could question the light haired man, or even voice a protest, Sephiroth was lapping at his wounded cheek. Shocked, Vincent struggled, thrashing from side to side. As his clawed fingers dug into the General's bicep, he was squeezed in a crushing manner. Pressed so tightly against the man's chest that all air was forced from his lungs, Vincent gasped.

"What are you?" Sephiroth asked in a breathy tone. Handling each struggle as though the gunman were nothing more than a rag doll, he held the pale body at arms length.

Vincent didn't answer at first. It was disturbing how powerful this man was. For the first time, doubt crept into his mind about Cloud's ability to handle defeating him. If he were this weak in comparison, then their leader would have to have some hidden ability.

When given a harsh shake, the red-eyed man replied instinctively, "I'm a monster."

Sephiroth's eyes gleamed in response. Once again pulling the smaller form against himself, he carnally sniffed at the monster's neck. The cry that had pierced the air and cut into his very soul had brought him to this room. Leaving behind the confused group of fighters, he'd searched for the source of such a moving sound, drawn to it beyond all reason. Now, with blood that was sweet and sent trills of energy through his body, he couldn't begin to imagine what sort of being Hojo had created. It excited him.

"What was Hojo doing with you?" Sephiroth questioned into the sweetly scented junction of the creature's neck and shoulder. He wondered what manner of experimentation the doctor was performing to procure such results.

Rigidly, Vincent squirmed against the tight hold. What was going on? With some semblance of his usual cold demeanor, he breathed out sarcastically, "Don't you have a world to destroy?"

Warm breath ghosted pale skin as Sephiroth chuckled. What manner of beast was this that ensnared his senses and caused such amusement? With a deep breath, he once again inhaled that intoxicating smell. Using his mouth, he pulled the glove from his left hand. Running it down the smooth body, he ran fingers between the cleft cheeks of the gunman's recently injured ass. There was blood present there as well.

With a smirk, Sephiroth easily pieced things together. Hojo's aroused state, the split ring of puckered skin, and the anguished cry that rumbled through the crater. The question was, what would such actions have accomplished? No doubt the gunman was pleasing in a visual sense, but he'd always thought the doctor be above such base pleasures. At least, the self-centered scientist rarely did anything that wouldn't benefit his research.

Removing his other glove, he fingered silky strands of raven hair. It felt like his own, but the color was the exact opposite. This man certainly intrigued him. Pale skin that sported the bloody gash beautifully, and red eyes that held both great bloodlust and sorrow.

Chaos began to shout and thrash at the same moment Vincent registered Sephiroth's actions as being similar to Hojo's. A disgusted shiver wracked his body, and he again found himself wondering if he should listen to the darkness.

Eyes shut tightly, Vincent fought to think clearly. Fighting back would certainly be more futile that with Hojo. He couldn't even keep up with the General's movements let alone counter the power behind them. But, perhaps this was his punishment. He'd just committed another sin, killing Hojo, and he'd originally sinned against Sephiroth thirty-two years ago. Sephiroth was as blood smeared as he was because of the life he'd inadvertently caused the man to lead. A child without a mother grew up in such a twisted manner, turning on the world and killing countless innocents.

Quietly, the raven haired man whispered, "Are you my punishment?" The beast inside of him answered 'no', but he couldn't rely on such a bloodthirsty creature's reasoning. He couldn't make his own conclusions, because they were never correct and ended with someone dying.

Wildly, Sephiroth gazed into crimson eyes. A heat stirred within him. Grinning madly, he replied, "Yes"

Crestfallen, but understanding, Vincent lowered his eyes and relaxed his body. It was with great effort that he continued to suppress Chaos. It must have been fate. His mislead quest for vengeance against the doctor had always lead him towards Sephiroth. Kill the doctor, and then suffer the consequences.

With a small smile, Vincent was grateful that his deeds would no longer go unpunished. Previously, his only punishment had been his years with Hojo, which were horrific in themselves, but nothing in comparison to what he'd done to others.

When his body twitched and threatened to automatically struggle, Vincent clenched his eyes shut and internally shouted that he need to remain complacent. He'd already killed Hojo. Chaos had won. But, if Sephiroth were his punishment for that, then he needed to take it.

There was some relief in the fact that if he did lose control again, if he did break down and try to kill Sephiroth, then the silver haired General was not likely to fall at the shot of a single bullet.

With a realizing sigh of relief, Vincent suddenly remembered whom he was dealing with. Opening his eyes again, he looked up into the stark Mako enhanced eyes of his punisher. Smiling weakly again, he whispered, "You can control me, can't you?" If the darkness took over, Sephiroth would probably be able to control it easily, stopping him from hurting others. It was ironic that such was the case.

It never occurred to Vincent that the odds of Sephiroth stopping death were slim to none, whereas the odds of the crazed killer using Chaos to destroy the world was almost a certainty. All the gunman registered was that he'd yet again sinned and that the silver haired man was present and capable of causing him pain for his actions.

"Control you?" Sephiroth questioned with avid interest. Every moment that passed he felt growing curiosity and a heated longing. Control was a word he quite liked to hear, especially in such context pertaining to this gunman.

"It wants to kill you," Vincent explained, "I don't think I could, not alone," he referred to trying to battle Sephiroth single handedly. "But, if it's released, then I don't know what will happen."

"Gunman, you're making no sense," Sephiroth chuckled, "But they say I'm insane, so perhaps we're both just misunderstood."

"You are insane," Vincent commented dryly.

Squeezing his arms around the bare form again, watching for a fearful reaction from crimson eyes, Sephiroth conceded, "Perhaps" As the gunman's lithe form pressed against his lower half, he realized for the first time that he was aroused.

In a testing manner, Sephiroth rubbed against the expressionless man. He was pleased to find that not only did he feel shivers of pleasure from such actions, but it also caused that emotionless face to contort in anguish.

As another disgusted shiver ran through Vincent's body, he felt himself lose his strenuous hold on Chaos. "I'll struggle," he warned.

"Even better," Sephiroth replied.

Without restraint, the silver haired man abruptly threw the gunman to the ground. Before those weak limbs could even stir in reaction, he crushed the man to the floor.

Vincent grunted as the wind was knocked from him. Lying prone once more, his entire body was pressed to the cold metal floor. Thankfully, he was no longer against the grate. He began to choke as the general kept him in place with a crushing force to his neck. Sputtering, he convulsed to retrieve the air knocked from him while fighting against a closed trachea.

When the hand left his neck, he gasped for air. The sudden levering of his lower half caused his back to arch further than was natural. With his chest pressed flat against the floor and his legs and pelvis raised up for Sephiroth's bidding, his arms attempted to push his torso up. However, the scrambling was not just to relieve his back, but also to inch away.

No matter how guilty he felt, or how deserving he may have been of such punishment, Vincent could not force himself to take it quietly. Skipping all coherent protests, an inhuman growl left his throat, snarling passed his sneering lips.

Vincent felt Chaos surge. The consuming rage came much quicker than before, since the beast had already gained much ground that day and his mind felt weakened.

Sephiroth listened, beginning to believe the gunman's words about being a monster. Such a sweetly tainted voice that could have very well been the growling of the devil himself.

Wanting to hear more, Sephiroth leaned forward slightly, his long hair sweeping over the sinewy and smooth back. Gripping those slim hips, he dug his fingers into tender flesh.

The responding grunt of pain wasn't enough. Sephiroth realized that he'd need to skip straight to what the doctor had done. However, just as he began to release his straining member, the protesting gunman managed to level himself up on two arms and thrash about. Grinning at the useless attempt, he unsheathed Masamune. Standing quickly, he dragged the gunman towards the other end of the room, where the flooring was like vents, no doubt allowing for easy access to the control panels' wiring.

There was no consideration in the way Sephiroth swiftly kicked the dead body of the doctor away, casting it closer to the other limp form.

With a barely resistant stab, Sephiroth ran his long blade through the red-eyed man's right shoulder and into the grated flooring. The resulting cry was like music. Resuming his previous actions, he freed himself and prepared to enter the writhing man.

As Vincent bit into his bottom lip he realized his teeth all too easily broke the skin. With lengthened and sharpened incisors, he tasted the blood such beastly teeth drew. The blade in his shoulder forced him to keep still, or else further tear the wound open.

As Sephiroth prepared to enter the gunman, his eyes caught sight of a second wound on a pale back. Blood trailed down from where his long sword stabbed through, and directly beside that another gash appeared. However, this wound seemed to be growing on its own, spreading open.

Ceasing his actions for a moment, Sephiroth swept his long hair out of the way and bent down to further inspect the injuries, which he hadn't caused. A third wound appeared. Equally spaced, it was next to the left shoulder blade, nearer the center of the back.

Wide eyed, the General realized what might be happening. "A monster indeed," he called out to the panting gunman. In one swift movement, he forced his way inside the pale man's body. The tightness and warmth was most pleasing, but nothing in comparison to the echoing cry of that demonic voice.

Slowly, with each harsh and unforgiving thrust, Sephiroth watched as the wounds in the gunman's back began to show signs of something pushing from beneath. With the sort of crazed and twisted understanding that only the insane could immediately have, Sephiroth connected the dots between his brutal raping and the inhuman changes in the raven-haired man.

Thrusting faster and harder, he reached out with one hand to removed Masamune. He feared that his weapon might disturb the mutations. Casting his blade aside, far too consumed to care that it was treated with such disregard, he began to thrust deeper. With the strength and endurance that came only from being a powerful warrior, he pushed further into the man than any other could.

Blood coated his member, and dripped down from the torn hole he pumped into. When he began to feel himself near the brink of release, a wondrous thing happened. The slow process of mutation suddenly sped up.

Vincent's voice began to screech forth unintelligible garbles of protests. He'd long forgotten about remaining complacent, and could only think of fighting back. However, he was powerless, and thus allowed for Chaos to take over.

The pain from being split so roughly was beyond durable, and before long Vincent was certain his mind was going to shut down. The additional pain that seared his back was something he did not understand, especially when Sephiroth removed the blade.

However, Vincent soon realized that it was Chaos taking on a physical form for the first time.

As Sephiroth showed no signs of being finished anytime soon, and in fact sped up, Vincent felt tears streaming uninhibited down his cheeks, and at a particularly violent thrust, he cried so harshly that he felt his voice give out. It wasn't his voice to begin with, the guttural cries echoed as though coming forth from a different plain of existence, yet being emitted from his throat they grew hoarse.

Suddenly, Vincent's back flashed with a greater pain that from the intrusion of the silver haired madman. With a sickening flap and spattering spray of blood, Chaos came forward.

Sephiroth continued to pump, only driving harder as the situation seemed to call for more intensity. Just as he found himself spurting warm liquid into that sinful body, black wings sprout forth and sprayed his face with that sweetly tasting blood of the gunman.

All too soon for the General's liking, the sight of those demon wings vanished, along with the warmly clenching confines of the body he'd been sheathed in.

Reacting quickly, Sephiroth grabbed his sword and countered the suddenly power infused creature. Holding his blade against the clawed grip of that golden forearm, he observed the changes in the man. Aside from lengthened teeth and giant demon wings, it was still the pale body he'd forced himself upon. Yet, there was more power and strength.

Surging forth, Sephiroth countered the beast and threw it off. With interest, he watched as the creature stumbled back, unable to walk properly. Smugly, he realized why.

Swinging his long sword through the air, he watched as the gunman leapt awkwardly into the air and hovered with the aid of newly released wings.

'What a grand fight this will be,' the silver haired General thought before attack again.

Vincent was surprised to find himself aware of his surroundings while in such a state. His body did not react to his will, but he was still conscious. He was completely aware of the pain that course through him. The screaming ache in his lower half, the protesting strain on his back as newly sprouted wings attempted to compensate for the lack of mobility in his legs. Chaos was indeed a powerful force, but his body was not in any shape to be fighting.

Such conclusions were proven when he was eventually knocked from the air and pinned once again to the ground with Sephiroth's blade piercing the side of his stomach. Howling in response, he lay painfully against his wings, thrashing about madly even though it only caused more pain.

As Sephiroth once again hovered over him, straddling his form, he bared his teeth, which now more appropriately considered fangs. Hissing, he bucked wildly. It seemed that Chaos was not capable of speech, only animalistic sounds of warning.

Sephiroth gripped that already black and blue throat, making sure those dangerous teeth didn't bite. Leaning forward so that their faces were mere inches apart, he grinned. "I'll control you," he whispered huskily.

At the responding hissing, he once again licked the gashed cheek, tasting the creature's blood.

A sudden spark of power pulsed through the air. Surprisingly, it did not come from the creature beneath. With a warrior's instincts, the General reacted before understanding. He barely managed to draw his sword from the thrashing creature's body when he was suddenly thrown clear across the room and into a hanging video screen.

Sparks lit up as glass shattered. Unharmed, the silver haired man landed easily. However, he was once again met with that fierce force that had blindsided him. With more of a warning this time, he countered the broadsword that clashed against his blade and stared into the Mako blue eyes of Cloud Strife.

TBC...

A/N Ok, this was an exceptionally long chapter for me. Still a cliffhanger, but I impress the fact that my attentions are now on this story and I'll be updating at least twice a week. Usually I update more often than that. I'm sorry if anyone didn't like the fact that Vincent got raped, but that's the way I chose to take the story, so that's the way I took it. This is probably the darkest fic I've contrived, and will be full of angst. I doubt there will ever be a single character that you'll like at every moment. As I've already demonstrated, even Cloud has a darker side, and Vincent is almost annoyingly oblivious to the truth.

It was kind of a stretch to write Sephiroth's point of view, since he isn't really a character that is given enough depth to be able to grasp his thoughts and stuff. I took a lot of liberties and used the characters for my own means, so if they're out of character, that's to be expected. Anyways, I hope it was an interesting read at the least.

For the next chapter, I can only say that it'll have a royally pissed off Cloud who just happened to arrive too late.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Less Than a Celebration

Cid and Aeris had barely registered the sight of Sephiroth atop an injured and transformed Vincent, when a gust of air passed by and Cloud had already torn across the room to remove the silver haired warrior from the gunman.

Shortly behind, the corridors of the facility not broad enough to fit all their forms at breadth, Tifa and Yuffie still managed to see what was going on.

In a blur of swiftly moving forms, Cloud struck Sephiroth's countering sword over and over again.

Awestruck, and perhaps a bit fearful, the remaining companions stood just within the room. The moment they'd arrived, having dwindled precious time away by not knowing where to go, the surprising scene had been presented to them.

"Well, fuck a duck," Cid eventually commented, "The kid's been holdin' out on us."

"What should we do?" Yuffie questioned.

Between not having the spiky haired ex-Soldier to give them orders and the feeling that there was little they could do given the way Cloud seemed to be handling it, the four members stood for another prolonged moment.

Eventually, Tifa grumbled angrily under her breath and charged forth. Sprinting, she cried out before joining the fight. While the talented young woman was quite the fighter, her number of hits and ability to keep up with the impossibly fast movement was nothing in comparison to what Cloud was doing.

"Aeris, I'd suggest using some of that magic of yours on Red and the vamp." Glancing warily at the writhing demon that was the pale gunman with wings and blood, Cid warned, "If you can't get near Vince, then leave him."

Nodding in understanding, Aeris trotted off, careful not to draw any unwanted attention.

"Come on you klepto," the pilot continued to direct, "Let's kill the bad guy."

* * *

It had been two full days with no signs that Vincent would wake up any time soon.

Cloud paced back and forth, completely absorbed in his own world of worry for the raven-haired gunman.

Clothes torn and battered from the scarce few nicks Sephiroth had managed, Cloud no longer wore his Soldier's uniform. His dark navy blue pants weren't tapered to tuck into his boots, but hung loosely, casually. Gone was the woolen scratchiness that almost seemed a requirement for all things Soldier, the material seemed a mix of denim and cotton, strong but soft. His shirt was a simple sweater tank top, with small pleats woven vertically. The turtleneck was unzipped to relieve that asphyxiated feeling he had with anything clinging to his throat. Along his left side, which had sported the most scratches, he wore an extra layer of draping guard. While his clothing was not going to be stopping any bullets or blades, every little bit counted. The final battle hadn't lasted long, but it had shown just how open he tended to leave his left side while favoring his right when wielding his sword. With a shoulder piece that might be considered armor, a single long sleeve draped down. From his waist, in a similar manner as his sleeve, the half skirt fell like a cloak.

The Highwind was airborne, and had been for most of that dreary day. Heavy clouds obscured any view of the earth below, casting an eerie white fog across the helm's windows. It was bright, what little sun shining from the atmosphere above reflected off the surrounding cloud cover and lit the cabin up. It didn't quite match the heavy mood that permeated throughout every nook of the ship.

Though it wasn't necessary, Cid stood at the wheel, casually smoking and minding his own. Every so often, he'd glance up at the spiky haired boy's mutterings before returning his focus to the swimsuit magazine he'd been halfheartedly flipping through, which was ten years old and had been photographically memorized long ago.

In the pilot's opinion, their oh-so-powerful leader should be out celebrating and getting drunk, not to mention getting a well deserved lay. That's exactly what he'd be doing too if everyone didn't seem so damn depressed.

In a world that was no longer fit for a middle aged man with dreams, his only friends had been the group of misfits that decided being heroes might be fun. So, when that same group of misfits ended the game with a grand finale and wound up sulking, it put a damper on any form of celebrating.

Every so often Cid would have the urge to say something to the swordsman, but when he looked up and saw that worried expression, he knew nothing he said would matter.

It seemed as though no one was going to return home or break out any bottles of whiskey until the pansy-boy woke up again. And, considering what happened to the gunman, it might not be any time soon. Cid knew that if it had been him to take it up the ass from Sephiroth-the-insane, he'd likely sleep the rest of his life away.

At three hours and some odd minutes, he broke down. Sighing gruffly, the spear-wielding pilot shattered the patterned silence that had previously only contained Cloud's even footsteps and periodical mumblings.

"What's on your mind kid?" he asked in somewhat of a rhetorical manner.

Cloud stopped, looking up towards the platform the pilot was stationed at. "Vincent, what else?" the blond retorted evenly.

Ignoring the evasive air with which the swordsman spoke, he pressed further, "Look, he's gotta wake up eventually. Does it really make a difference if you wear a path into my ship by pacing until he does?"

"He should have woken up after being healed," Cloud pointed out, "Something's wrong."

"Well, there's nothing you can do about it, short of holding his hand and praying to the Ancients. But, considering we have our very own Ancient doin' just that, I doubt any pleading you do is gonna help." Cid's sarcasm seemed lost on Cloud, for those Mako blue eyes just stared at him with fierce determination.

Cid fell silent. It wasn't like he wanted to talk in the first place, it was merely too annoying to watch Cloud pace back and forth.

After another interval of silence, the older man frowned in his own mental musings. Everyone was certainly concerned over the unconscious gunman's state. There was nothing odd about that, even if the pale vampire had joined them only a matter of weeks ago. Yet, he had the distinct impression that Cloud was affected by it all just a little too much.

Since when did the headstrong young man take it upon himself to be responsible for everyone else's welfare? Granted, Cloud was their leader, but they weren't blind followers, and as such had never been the boy's burden in any form.

So, that begged the question, why was Cloud so upset? Was it guilt?

Guilt wouldn't have accounted for the enraged instincts that kicked in when they'd arrived in that room in Shinra's now decimated research facility. Aside from tranced energy, built up power that had conveniently released to spur the younger blond on, there had definitely been some sort of protective rage that had taken over. It was a wonderous and frightening force, the instincts that were the most base of human nature.

If not guilt, then this exaggerated display of concern could only be explained by a limited number of possibilities, in Cid's opinion.

Before the pilot could voice any of the questions he had forming in his head, Yuffie came bounding into the main deck.

Bouncing gracefully, the light-footed ninja twirled as though performing a dance for an adoring audience. "He's awake!" she announced, taking a bow and shuffling out of the way since she knew what was about to come.

In a flutter of loosely hanging material, Cloud was passed Yuffie and out of the cabin.

"You'd think his wife was having a baby or something," Cid grumbled, no longer able to question the younger blond.

Yuffie didn't giggle like she was prone to doing at all of the pilot's sarcastic comments. Instead, she turned her big round eyes to the older man and asked, "Vincent's going to be okay, right?"

Frowning, Cid took a moment to search for his half full pack of tobacco sticks, stored somewhere on his body. Without his jacket, he was prone to hiding them in one of the pockets on his cargo khaki pants. With success, he tapped out anther cigarette.

At sixteen, he wondered if the young girl knew what had happened exactly. If she didn't, he wasn't about to corrupt her innocent little mind. "You know what happened?" he questioned casually, flicking his lighter.

Shuffling at the uncomfortable memory, the Wutai native fisted her thin forest green tank top, and spoke, "He got raped… by Hojo and Sephiroth."

Sky blue eyes widened momentarily. Cid coughed, choking on his lungful of toxic air. It wasn't the easy manner in which the girl knew what had happened, since he'd half expected her to know anyway, but the extra conclusion she'd drawn. "Hojo?" the pilot asked incredulously.

Uncertain for a moment, Yuffie scratched her bobbed black hair, wondering if she'd been wrong. "His pants were open, and I just figured that since they must have been there before Sephiroth was there…." She trailed off, looking for confirmation from the older, and therefore wiser, man.

Grumbling, Cid forgot his younger company and cursed openly, "A fucking rape festival wasn't it?"

"I doubt it was much of a festival," the ninja commented dryly, casting a sad gaze towards the empty corridor through which she'd just come and cloud had just left.

"He's a strong one," Cid said, referring to the man the girl had initially questioned him about. "He'll probably go howl at the full moon this month and be better, or whatever it is vampires do."

"That's werewolves, and I don't think he's a vampire."

"Yeah, well, I don't think he's human either," the pilot countered, taking another drag. He left off his additional thought on the matter, 'cause there's no human that good looking.'

"Cid," Yuffie began in all seriousness, "Do you think…." She fell short, not sure if she was being stupid for her thoughts.

"Speak up kid, it's not a good habit to leave your sentences unfinished," the pilot chastised.

Sighing heavily, Yuffie took a few steps closer. Hefting her small frame up, she sat casually balanced on the rail that separated the elevated station of the captain's wheel and the rest of the main deck. "Do you think that stuff like that has happened to him before?"

"Shit kid," Cid cursed, "You shouldn't be thinking that." Aside from the fact that such a young girl shouldn't be dwelling on the idea of rape in any form, it also shouldn't have been her to put the pieces together. It should have been the rest of them.

* * *

It had been a wonderful sleep. Darkness that kept his red eyes from seeing, a deafened silence that kept his ears from hearing, and a fatigued lethargy that kept his body from feeling. Perhaps the best part of it was that there were no dreams. For the first time in thirty-two long years, Vincent Valentine slept without nightmares or guilt over using spells to put him in such a state.

Even upon waking up, his mind was delayed in taking stock of his surroundings and situation. There was comfortable warmth, a slightly heavy pressure against his side that moved subtly. Twitching the fingers in his right arm, he felt the soft fur brush his knuckles.

Once Vincent realized that he was in a bed, blankets drawn up with the sleeping form of Red XIII sprawled against him, the raven-haired gunman shot up. His actions disturbed the fire-tailed feline, who was careful to keep that fire lit tip propped away from any flammable cloth.

"How are you feeling?" Red XIII asked immediately, raising his head from atop crossed paws.

"Fine," Vincent replied automatically. With brows furrowed the pale man looked about the empty room with confusion. "What happened?"

"I don't know," the tiger answered, "After Sephiroth attacked, I didn't wake up until we were back on the ship. That was a couple days ago. You've been asleep since then."

With a small nod of understanding, the gunman explained, "Chaos is strong. It took a lot out of me." With a testing flex of his right hand, Vincent confirmed the conclusion by the sorely overused feel of his muscles.

Chuckling, Red XIII commented, "They said you had wings."

Thoughtfully, Vincent came to another conclusion, "Such a demon would. I'm surprised I don't still have them."

Ears twitching, the tiger corrected the notion, "It wasn't your true form, just that spirit thing inside of you. You return to normal after all the other transformations."

Shaking his head, Vincent refuted, "I'm a monster, that is my true form."

Shocked, Red XIII stared for a long moment. "Vincent," he eventually spoke, "what makes you think that?"

Averting his crimson gaze, the gunman stiffly cast the blanket aside and made to stand up. A simple black t-shirt, that didn't belong to him, fit snuggly to his frame. Too short to fit properly, it revealed the pale skin of his midriff. Wearing long baggy flannel pants that barely managed to cling to his narrow waist, Vincent took a few steps to warm his muscles up. Stiff and sore was an understatement, but he wouldn't complain.

"You shouldn't be getting up. If you're still tired, then you can go back to sleep."

"Am I to assume Sephiroth is dead?" Vincent asked, ignoring the feline's words.

"I'm told Cloud did a number on him," Red XIII sighed, accepting the evasive mood the pale man seemed to be in. "Someone had the place rigged to explode, and we barely got out of there in time."

"So he's dead too," Vincent commented to himself. Thinking back upon the silver haired General, a small shiver ran through his body. Walking to the other side of the room, he kept his back turned and hid the pained expression on his face.

How many people would he defy and kill? Certainly, Sephiroth wasn't innocent, but the swordsman had been sent to punish him. There was only one option left. It was back to the mansion to sleep once again under the frozen stasis that would contain him and let him forever brood over his sins.

Red XIII watched with slight apprehension over what was going on inside the gunman's head.

A soft knocking sounded at the door.

A startled gasp came as the door creaked open. "You're awake!" Aeris cried joyfully, swinging the door open further and bounding over to the gunman.

Falling short of throwing her arms about the tall man, she circled his thin frame with a scouring eye. "Are you hurt anywhere?" she questioned, coming around completely to stand before his confused gaze.

"No," Vincent all but whispered solemnly.

"The others are anxious. If it's not too much to ask, would you let them see you?" Against her better judgment as a healer, the Ancient could not ignore the depressed look in Cloud's eyes.

"I didn't mean to worry you," Vincent apologized, easily giving the go ahead to everyone to know he was all right.

"Nonsense," Aeris brushed the matter aside with a flick of her hand. "It's not your fault." Wearing her usual long pink dress, absent of the matching jacket, Aeris was the same as ever. Her long brown hair, however, was braided in a single thick pleat down her back.

Red XIII trotted down from the bed, unaccustomed to being in one. Patting closer, he sat next to Vincent, his head nearly reaching the gunman's waist.

"It is my fault," Vincent assured with a small smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be your burden."

Frowning, the kindly woman knew all too well where such a guilt-ridden mindset came from. There were a million questions she wanted to ask, but couldn't. "We'll discuss everything after dinner tonight. Right now, I think everyone just wants to know you're okay." She used the word 'okay' lightly. There was no way the gunman could be 'okay', not after what happened in the Northern Crater and all those years ago.

With a small nod, Vincent gave the go ahead.

* * *

Pale cheeks blushed mildly at the news that he was wearing Tifa's shirt and Barrett's pants.

The dark skinned gunner stood and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "The pants had a drawstring, but my shirts were way too big for you," Barrett explained, giving Aeris a sheepish glance.

"I'm mad though," Tifa complained, forwardly walking up to the raven-haired man and tugging on the taut black material. "It looks better on you," she teased with a bright, assuring smile.

Morbidly embarrassed at the trouble he'd caused, Vincent could find no words to excuse himself.

The room was crowded with five forms standing within the area meant to house one. Minutes before, it had held one more person, a young Wutai ninja, who had scampered off to inform the last two members.

When the doorway was suddenly filled with Cloud's resolute frame, all eyes turned to the swordsman.

"That was fast," Tifa commented, wondering how long it took Yuffie to cross the length of the large airship and for Cloud to make his way here.

"I ran," Cloud admitted absently. Striding forth, he made a beeline for the blushing gunman.

The next anybody knew, the spiky haired blond had pulled the lighter framed gunman into a fiercely protective hug. Holding the complacent form tightly, Cloud even ventured to openly twine his fingers in soft raven hair and sigh with relief into the junction of a pale shoulder.

At this last action however, Vincent went terribly rigid, not protesting, but obviously far from relaxed. Pulling back, Cloud looked with renewed concern into crimson eyes. "What's wrong?" he questioned softly.

An openly anguished expression contorted the delicate features of Vincent's face. "Nothing," he mumbled softly, knowing he had no right to voice even the smallest of complaints. Cloud's actions were shockingly similar to the crazed General's, though they lacked the gruffly painful handling and the insane blood lusting gaze of green eyes.

"Hey," the younger man cooed softly, completely oblivious to other shocked stares. Reaching a hand up, he softly stroked a smooth cheek. "Stop thinking so much," he reprimanded lightly, seeing the distant look in red eyes.

Refocused eyes snapped to attention at Cloud's order. "I need to go to the mansion," Vincent stated abruptly. At the continued hold of the blond, and the softly stroking thumb against the revealed skin of his lower back, he felt fear grow within. The last person he wanted to be dragged into the fate of having to punish him was Cloud. "I need to be sealed again."

Outside the open doorway, two more new arrivals came into view. Vincent looked passed the concerned gaze of their leader, and locked eyes with the bluntly spoken pilot. "Please, can you take me there?" he pleaded, directing his words to the man who would steer the ship.

TBC….

A/N Ok, a shorter chapter in comparison to the last, but roughly average in size to my usual wordiness. I'm still working on character descriptions. It's hard for me to have so many people at once and try to convey a visual without simply giving a list of what they're wearing and references to their physical features. Anyway, after the next chapter, maybe two, there is going to be a jump in the timeline. Just a warning, this story is going to move along faster than I'm used to writing.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Your Wish Is My Command

"You have to promise," Cloud whispered with a note of desperation.

Sighing, Vincent closed his eyes for a moment. It was tiring and somewhat frightening lying in the darkened room, being held in the blond's arms. At the tightening squeeze that demanded an answer, the raven-haired gunman replied, "Okay"

Breathing deeply, inhaling the oddly ever present sweet scent that seemed to exude from the pale man's skin, like some naturally produced fragrance, Cloud felt relief wash over him.

Cloud had already admitted to being completely selfish in his infatuation for Vincent. Every moment that passed, he felt his feelings grow stronger, drawing him to the sullen and terribly mislead man.

Finding the raven beauty bloodied and violated beneath Sephiroth had more than released the seal on his feelings, it had blown the covering off completely. Each time he was in the gunman's presence, he wanted to keep as much bodily contact as possible, holding the light frame to himself, and staying like that for hours.

With the terms of their agreement set, the content swordsman settled in for the night. Having argued the matter continually for the better part of the final celebration dinner, straight through to the moment they'd lain in bed, Cloud felt that he could rest easier. It had been an argument simply coaxing Vincent to spend the night, like before, so that he could keep on arguing his other point. Though, he now had the added benefit of sleeping with the gunman.

The agreement was that Vincent would not, under any circumstances, return to the mansion in Nibelheim for two solid years.

Though the stubborn gunman had been adamantly opposed to the proposition, everyone had slowly worn him down. Now, Cloud completed the deal with midnight promises and a warm hold.

Two years, the same amount of time taken to hurt Vincent so deeply, to ingrain such twisted psychological views.

Naturally, whatever made the gunman want to be imprisoned again did not rest easy with such a prospect of two years of freedom. However, Cloud was certain it could be reversed, so he'd consented to the terms of Vincent's return to the coffin if that's what the gunman still wanted after the chosen length of time.

Greedily, Cloud pressed against Vincent's backside, conforming to stay as close as possible. With two arms wrapped around the longhaired man's lithe frame, he buried his face into silky raven hair and whispered softly, "I love you".

When the gunman only stiffened, the blond smiled, knowing his profession must have been a surprise. Placing a heated kiss against an elegant and exposed neck, he assured, "Go to sleep."

With a single nod, Vincent showed his understanding. He tried to relax, not wanting to pull the swordsman's attention again.

Slowly, time dwindled and Cloud's breathing evened into slow intakes of air that signaled a sleeper's reduced respiration.

Crimson eyes stared at the shadows of the surrounding room. This was the second night he had spent here, lying down in much the same manner. But, the last time, he hadn't felt such overwhelming guilt and fear. Surely, he'd felt pangs of guilt, as he always did, but that night when the swordsman had taken such pity as to hold him and sooth his troubled state, it had almost been relieving. Now, however, he wanted to tear from the room and jump ship.

All through dinner, ever since the blond fighter had greeted him after waking up, Vincent noticed the change in those bright blue eyes. It was painful to feel that heated gaze constantly upon himself. Once again, he'd attracted the wrong attention. Just like he'd done with Lucrecia. As Hojo had said, he'd lured the brilliant and beautiful woman to her downfall. Now, he'd done the same thing with Cloud.

What could he do? Having stupidly promised not to return to his coffin, there already seemed to be plans made for spending time together. Time with Cloud Strife was exactly what should not happen.

The dark room blurred behind watery tears. With care not to disturb the sleeping man, whose hold would not relent in the least, Vincent clapped a hand to his mouth to stifle all sounds.

Forcefully, he subdued his sobs to small tremors, pleading that he didn't wake the younger man up.

He wished that Sephiroth were still alive. At least, if the madman were lured to him, acting as his punisher, then he wouldn't feel such guilt.

Hot tears spilled over thick lashes, running sideways down onto the pillow beneath his head. He didn't want to hurt Cloud. Of all the people that he might have condemned, the last person he would have wanted it to be was the blond swordsman.

Silently, he cursed at himself, at Chaos. Throwing reprimands and pleads internally, he fought to think of some solution. He had no right to deny Cloud whatever he wanted. He had no right to refute and reject the love offered. Yet, he could never accept it. Accepting Lucrecia's love had lead to her death. Accepting Hojo and Sephiroth's punishments had been their deaths. Chaos would not let anyone get close to him and remain happy or alive.

No one could be with him, he was a creature of darkness and ugly shame. He'd bring sorrow to the ex-Soldier's life, a sorrow the younger man had never felt before and didn't deserve to experience.

Yet, even knowing all this, did nothing to create a solution. He couldn't just run away, he'd made a promise. He couldn't break that promise, because his life was meant to atone for his sins, and part of that meant serving others. Whatever anyone asked of him, he would do. Whatever anyone wanted from him, he would give.

Cloud, and everyone else in the group, had asked him not to seal himself away. This was a terribly conflicting request, since his nature demanded he heed their wishes, but his conscious cried out that he'd hurt them by complying. Now, the blond had grown affectionate, and before long, Cloud would want more from him. Without a moment's hesitation, he'd give the leader whatever he asked for. But, at the same time, he'd cry over the fate he'd bestowed upon the innocent young man.

* * *

Morning dawned, bringing a clear sky and the warm tropical weather of Wutai.

Vincent had been awake all night. Waging a battle in his mind, he'd watched as daylight slowly dissipated the shadows. The room was brightly lit before long. The light brought both a new day and world of troubles for the gunman.

For a man as thoughtful and well educated as him, he seemed to have become a mindless being, run solely by his guilt and need for atonement. As such, he'd found no solace after a night of furiously trying to find a solution. No relief in having an answer, no peace in saving Cloud or anyone else that he might hurt and kill in the two years time.

There was a soft knocking on the door. It was a sound that Vincent could only picture one person making.

When Cloud didn't stir, Vincent considered shaking the swordsman awake. However, the person at the door didn't seem inclined to waiting for permission to enter.

Meekly, the door creaked open before a cautious head peeped in. Long brown hair cascaded to the side, unbound. Bright green eyes gave a short scan of the room before falling upon the bed.

Uncertain of himself, Vincent remained still. Throughout the night, the sleeping fighter had shifted, but never let go of him. Now, as he lay back, Cloud was sprawled nearly on top of him. One leg hooked across his two, one arm tucked firmly around his waist, and one sleeping head buried near his neck.

Curiously, Vincent watched as the woman's eyes widened and a disapproving frown pulled her pink lips down.

Stepping further in, Aeris shut the door behind herself quietly. For the change of climate, and trip to the beach planned for the day, she wore a pair of khaki shorts and pink tank top. Barefoot, she tiptoed across the carpeted floor.

Vincent instinctively felt the need to sit up and properly address the young woman, but his pinned position left him in a slight predicament to do so.

"Vincent," Aeris whispered when she was closer, her green eyes now glaring daggers toward the blond chocobo head. "Come with me," she directed.

Hesitant, Vincent didn't know what to do. Cloud hadn't outright stated that he was to remain, but he received the distinct impression, perhaps from the constant hold, that the swordsman didn't want him to leave. But, the Ancient wanted him to leave. He didn't know which person to listen to.

"It's fine, we don't have to wake him," Aeris soothed, seeing the mixed confusion in crimson eyes.

With a small nod, the raven-haired man carefully began to sit up. Immediately, the arm at his waist stirred. His golden gauntlet dug into the sheets beneath as the swordsman trailed a hand under his shirt and up against his side. He hated how an all too familiar shiver wracked his body. Cloud was becoming more and more like Hojo and Sephiroth, and it was killing Vincent that he couldn't stop it. The hand swept higher, caressing and smoothing over his skin.

Before the blond leader could make another movement, an angry flower girl promptly smacked the furrowed head harshly.

Startled, Vincent tore his slightly horrified eyes away from Cloud and stared in shock at Aeris.

"Cloud," Aeris reprimanded harshly. Reaching out, she took hold of the gunman's clawed hand and tugged him away.

As Cloud's head shot up and the swordsman seemed to realize a bit of what was happening, Vincent stood up to comply with the pulling on his arm.

"Aeris?" Cloud questioned, sitting up quickly.

Hardly sparing the still sleepy eyed fighter a cursory glance, the angry woman commented over her shoulder, "I'll talk to you soon enough. I'm taking Vincent, don't follow."

With that, the small woman led a confused gunman from the room.

* * *

"Do you mind?" Aeris questioned.

Vincent shook his head, glancing around. It was an unusual place for him to be, wearing unusual clothes, but he wasn't going to deny the Ancient the time she'd asked for or the suggestion of changing into something more appropriate.

At the shoreline, the sun beamed down strongly, even in the mid morning. It was hot, but that was to be expected in such a place. The island of Wutai was composed mainly of lush forests, banana trees thriving in the tropical climate. The weather hardly ever varied year round, being that it was an island in the tropics.

The water was crystalline blue, sparkling brightly. It was so clear that it showed the coral reef a good hundred meters out.

Vincent hadn't been out in the sun on such a bright day for well over thirty years. Prior to working for Dr. Hojo, he'd rarely had any spare time as a Turk. It felt nice. Perhaps a little too hot, but there was a constant breeze that made it all bearable.

With his battle gear gone, Vincent did feel rather exposed. His long cloak was sorely missed at random moments, but the kind hearted young woman had chastised that he'd faint from heat stroke if he didn't wear something else.

So, the pale gunman wore a pair of faded light blue jeans and plain burgundy t-shirt. Courtesy of a gruff pilot, Cid had thrown the items at the gunman and spouted off how he had too many clothes and didn't need so many spares since a little grease never hurt anybody. Vincent hadn't quite understood what Cid was talking about, or why the pilot had shown up abruptly in Aeris room, but he was grateful.

A step up from Barrett and Tifa's borrowed clothing, the pants and shirt actually seemed to fit to his lithe frame. They were both a little baggy, but he was far from caring about that, and would never think of complaining. Having woken up with nothing to his name but the clothes on his back, he hadn't anticipated staying awake in the world long enough to need anything else.

Boots strewn off to the side, the gunman sat with his knees slightly bent and his feet buried in the warm sand. The water's edge was about ten feet off, rolling in closer and then seeping back again.

It was definitely weird, but in the very sense that it was weird, it became distracting. Vincent was grateful for the distraction, his mind focused on something else for a change.

"Vincent," Aeris spoke the name softly, simply getting his attention. The gunman's pale skin definitely seemed out of place, especially if he were to be compared to a local of Wutai village. His skin was farer than even that of the lifelong residents of Mt. Nibel. She wondered briefly, if he'd burn under such a strong sun.

Having picked up on the fact that the Ancient had something on her mind, Vincent turned his head to the side and regarded her solemnly. After a moment, he cast his glance seaward, but it was clear he was willing to listen.

"I know it must seem like we're being unreasonable, prying into your affairs like this."

When the gunman didn't give any gestures to support or refute her words, Aeris breathed out heavily and scuttled closer. Mimicking the long limbed ex-Turk's position, she wrapped her hands around her knees and stared off into the waves. "You have no reason to believe me above what you _know _and what Hojo has told you, but you're not a monster."

This earned a sideways glance, crimson eyes studying the serious profile of the Ancient's delicate, almost dainty, features.

"I thought… well, I've thought a lot of things," she continued, perfectly willing to carry on the one sided conversation. "I thought that Cloud might be good for you. He means well." Turning, she met Vincent's eyes and stared fiercely, impressing the truth, "He really does mean well."

"I don't want to hurt him," Vincent uttered, perplexed by the Ancient's statement and not knowing where she was going with it.

Green eyes narrowed in thought. Aeris studied Vincent's face much the same as he was studying hers. Dissecting his words, she put them into place. "You mean, hurt him like you hurt Hojo and Sephiroth?"

Surprised at the ease with which the young woman managed to understand him, Vincent gave a faint smile and nod. If she understood, then perhaps she could help. "Lucrecia as well. I lured them to me, and when they tried to help, I hurt them."

It was difficult to not simply tell the gunman that he was completely backwards in his thought process, but that would get her no where. She had to show him that she understood how he thought, and then maybe she could show him how she thought. "How did they try and help you?" she questioned. She had a fearful inkling what 'help' meant.

"I'm no scientist," Vincent stated, just to clarify that he wasn't an expert or knowledgeable of the finer details, "But taking me was meant to tame me. If I were certain that Chaos wouldn't overpower me again, I'd find someone to take me. But, I can't stop myself. I should be locked away again, so that I can't hurt anyone else. I don't want more blood on my hands."

Aeris bit her lip, forcing herself to take in the information and not comment on it. So, Hojo had Vincent believing that rape was a form of curing him. What about Chaos? "When Hojo, _raped_ you," she made certain to apply the proper term, hoping to instill some fragment of meaning in the gunman, "Chaos fought back?"

With a mirthless chuckle, Vincent shook his head. "It's not Chaos' fault. I'm the one who couldn't obey them."

"I-I see," Aeris stuttered, letting the matter go for now. Instead, she returned to the main focus of her talk with him. "You seem burdened by Cloud's affection," she commented.

"You noticed," Vincent spoke incredulously.

"It took an unbiased eye, but yes, I noticed. Don't blame him for not seeing it, he's a bit blinded at the moment."

"If he wants me, he can have me," Vincent assured the kind woman. He didn't want her to think he'd become unruly.

Aeris drew her brows together in a pained expression. "That's not how it should be," she whispered harshly under her breath. "Cloud wouldn't want false feelings. No one would. You can't just…." Sighing, she let her statement fall short, knowing she couldn't make that point right now. "Anyways, I think your time should be spent away from Cloud." Mulling the idea once over in her head, Aeris overcame her stipulation with the intrusive meddling she was doing. "I think you should spend your time with Nanaki, go to Cosmo Canyon and stay there. Nanaki agrees with me."

Vincent didn't know what to say. He wouldn't argue, but he didn't want to make anyone else upset with such a decision. "Cloud-"

"Don't worry about him," the brown haired woman cut in. "Cloud needs some time on his own. He's had years of unrequited feelings for Tifa, and then being a SOLDIER he pushed all that aside. Right now, he needs to grow up and spend time with normal people."

"Okay," Vincent agreed.

"Everyone will come by from time to time. We're all together from now on anyway, I doubt you could avoid us even if you tried."

Brows furrowed, raven hair fell forward as Vincent looked down to the sand at his feet. "It's over now," he commented, not understanding the depth of the bond among the band of fighters.

Smiling brightly, Aeris unwrapped her arms and shifted to kneel on her knees. "It's not over. Sephiroth is dead and the world is safe again, but there is still so much we can do. There are rumors that Rufus is alive, which means Shinra's a threat again. And, more importantly, after what we've been through together, we'll always be together." Reaching out, she cupped a pale cheek and directed the gunman's head up. Staring into his crimson eyes, she continued, "We're all friends, this includes you. It doesn't matter if no one really knows you, or if you don't know them. We're your friends, and if you ever need anything, we won't be far off."

Anguish was evident in crimson eyes. "I don't deserve friends." Raising his clawed left hand, he gently set it against the Ancient's forearm. Keeping her hand in place, he turned away from the touch. "My hands are too bloodied for someone like you to become involved with."

"Vincent," Aeris chastised sternly. Grabbing his gauntlet, she clasped it tenderly, as though holding a child's hand. "I want you to memorize something, a list of truths that you'll repeat every day for the next two years, starting today."

As the pale man's bowed lips frowned, Aeris gently shook his hand. "I'll write them down, and I'll ask Nanaki if you've said them everyday."

Lowering his head, Vincent complied, "Of course."

"First," Aeris began, taking a moment to think of it. "You're not a monster, you're Vincent Valentine, just a man with shitty luck."

Red eyes widened. Snapping his head up, Vincent looked with shock into mischievous green eyes. The Ancient was smirking. "I've never heard you swear," he muttered without thinking.

Laughing at the gunman's surprise, Aeris smiled kindly. "Too much time around Cid. He'll have me cussing like a sailor before long, I suspect."

Once again having the raven haired man's full attention, Aeris pressed on, "Second, a touch can be innocent, with only caring intentions." To emphasize this point, she released his hand and reached out once again to cup his cheek. "The difference between good and bad is how it makes you feel, not what your mind tells you. My touch has no underlying motives, can you tell?" She let her thumb stroke his smooth skin.

Sharply inhaling, Vincent gave a small nod.

Green eyes looked skywards as Aeris tried to reason out a few more 'truths' for Vincent to repeat. "I'll make the list later," she commented after a moment. "For now, I want you to make me another promise."

Torn between his want to believe the Ancients words, and the gravity of the truth, Vincent merely stared.

Keenly aware of just what Vincent might be arguing over silently, Aeris conceded that it would indeed take two years, if not a lifetime, to undue the damage. "Promise that you'll learn more about Chaos."

Shocked by the woman's words once again, Vincent blurted out, "He's a demon, that's all there is to know."

Brown bangs shook as Aeris disagreed. "Even if you feel that way, you have to promise me that you'll learn more. What does Chaos say when its not angry? Does it truly want to kill people?"

Seeing the stubborn gleam to the young woman's eyes, Vincent sighed out once more, "Okay"

Smiling brightly, Aeris moved to sit back down. "It's such a beautiful day," she commented with contentment. "The other's will be here closer to noon. When we set up umbrellas you can get out of the sun."

Taking a moment to digest the Ancient's words and conditions, Vincent was delayed in responding. "The sun feels nice."

"You won't burn will you?" Aeris asked finally after wondering about it to herself several times already.

"My skin doesn't change pigment. I cannot tan or burn," he assured.

"Well, at least we know you're not a vampire," Aeris half giggled.

Scoffing, Vincent retorted, "Maybe I'm a day walker."

Aeris found such implications highly amusing. Laughing outright, she reclined into the warm sand, uncaring about getting the grains all over herself. "I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing you in casual clothes."

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Aeris whispered, "Thank you"

Frowning, Vincent didn't respond. He had no right to refuse anyone anything they wanted. For someone who seemed to understand him quite well, the Ancient didn't seem to grasp the concept that she needn't thank him for anything, because it was his duty by way of repentance to serve others.

TBC….

A/N And, we're moving along. Yes, this is a CloudxVincent fic. The main couple always has to be the most troublesome to get together.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Valentine Sensei

Two years could be both an eternity and mere flash of time. It was all a matter of perspective.

For Cloud Strife, two years dragged on with mundane and bland days. It was a slow realization that his actions towards Vincent had been brash and out of line. At first, he hadn't believed it, not after the warmth and contentment he'd felt from sleeping together. It wasn't possible that something so chaste and pleasing could be anything akin to what Hojo and Sephiroth had done.

For Vincent Valentine, two years was the blink of an eye, and for the first time he felt what could very well be happiness.

* * *

Aeris sat at the bar of 7th Heaven. Legs crossed demurely beneath her usual flower girl dress, the longhaired Ancient wasn't completely comfortable in the newly renovated establishment.

Eight months since its opening, Tifa managed to keep the place in top shape, the darkly stained flooring never losing its polished shine, and the countertops on bar and table alike never held a spilt drink any longer than a minute. For all the hard work it took, the dark haired woman, whose body had become the fancy of more than a few men as of late, seemed entirely satisfied with it all.

The bar was Tifa's, run and owned by her alone. With the frequent help of Yuffie and Marlene, who was a waitress in training, each day passed with fulfillment.

Fame and fortune was something none of the heroes had been seeking, but it found them once the world found out about Sephiroth's demise and the key fighters behind it all.

While Tifa didn't plan on making a career out of it, modeling and having her pictures taken was almost a fun pass time that happened to bring a lot of publicity for her bar.

Now, on a Sunday afternoon, there were a handful of regulars hanging out at their usual tables. Mostly teens, coming for a bite to eat with their friends or lovers. The atmosphere was perfect for any sort of person. There were more secluded corners for someone who simply wanted to get piss drunk or have an intimate meal, or more social areas where the round tables that sat four, were closer together for groups of friends coming in to hang out together.

Aeris chose a seat up at the bar counter, because it was most convenient for a working Tifa, who shuffled around the back placing orders and drying mugs.

The dull whirring of the ceiling fans was a constant for background noise, and as the Ancient settled in and sipped on a tall glass of iced tea, it became almost lulling.

It was a lazy day indeed. The end of spring in Sector 7 brought an early heat wave that just made everything feel muggy, and made every person want to sit down and pass the time idly twiddling their thumbs.

With her long brown hair held up in a messy bun, Aeris let out a relieved sigh as the cold drink cooled her down and the slight drafts of air from above brushed over the back of her neck.

"Good?" Tifa asked with a knowing smirk.

"It's so hot," Aeris replied, "Sector 5 isn't nearly this warm so soon."

"Well, it is unusual. But, with the upper level under reconstruction like this, who knows how the weather will change."

"Do you know what Shinra's planning now?" the green eyed girl questioned casually.

It wouldn't really matter if anyone was within hearing range, since there were no oppressive forces to stomp out all uprising, but Shinra wasn't exactly the sort of topic people just casually talked about all the time. So, when Aeris proposed the question, Tifa gave the area nearby a quick, subtle scan.

"Rufus is all but publicly confirmed to be running the company again. It's not like they're trying to hide that he isn't dead, he's seen everywhere," Tifa informed with a small frown.

Not savvy by way of the political power struggles that went on, Aeris asked, "Why would they make a public announcement in the first place?"

Tilting her head to the side, Tifa set the glass mug on a rack just behind the counter. Absently wiping her hands on her drying rag, she stepped closer. "Well, if he were officially reinstated in the public's eye, it gives him a sort of extra control over the company. If people know he's running the show again, then it takes care of any protests that might arise now that everyone is against Shinra's control."

Pink lips formed an acknowledging 'o', just before taking another sip of the brown liquid.

"Should we be worried about this?" Aeris asked after a moment.

Tifa, who had busied herself with grabbing a plate of a freshly grilled tuna melt, signaled for the brown haired woman to hold the thought for a moment. Striding around the counter, her half skirt swaying with the movement, the dark haired kickboxer delivered the meal to the right table before returning.

With no one else to serve, Tifa sidled up along side Aeris and sat comfortably on the padded stool. Leaning forward, she stretched her bare arms across the counter and arched like a cat waking from a long nap.

"Man, am I glad we're closing early today. I'm tired," she complained with a tone of jest. Resting her head against the bar top, she angled her dark brown eyes to look up at the concerned woman beside her. "I'll never get tired of it though, this place is my baby."

Aeris chuckled good naturedly, finding Tifa's attachment amusing.

"You don't have to worry about anything. Barrett and I are keeping an eye on Shinra's movements. As far as I can tell, they're still in the doghouse, even with the elites. So, for a while at least, they won't be trying anything."

"They've donated money to Sector 5," Aeris commented.

With her head still against the counter, Tifa nodded. "I heard. Something about cleaning up and doing some major reconstruction."

"They're giving a lot of money to fix the church up."

"Really? I never took them for being religious," Tifa responded with mild surprise. Even she hadn't known where the money was going exactly. Then again, that church was like Aeris' unofficial territory.

"Vincent told me," Aeris added, seeing the pensive look on the younger woman's face.

Sitting upright swiftly, the darkly clad woman asked with evident surprise, "Vincent?"

"Rufus specifically donated two hundred thousand gil for Vincent's use."

Mouth agape, Tifa stared for a moment. It was one shock to know that the president of Shinra was willing to give so much money to anybody, but it was another to learn that the receiver was one of their very own, and Vincent no less.

"A lot has happened in three months," Aeris began with an air of mystery and underlying mirth. It had been that long since the two women had last spoken.

Willing to play along, Tifa prompted with a tone of excited impatience that Yuffie often held, "Like what?"

"Vincent and Nanaki left Cosmo Canyon. Now they're staying in Sector 5," Aeris began to divulge, but left it there to tease the other woman.

"Are you back in Sector 5?" Tifa questioned.

With a shake of her head, a few tendrils of hair escaped the haphazardly set bun. "I'm still trying to track Cloud down all the time." On this note, Aeris face lost some of its amusement, her eyes becoming a bit crestfallen.

"It's a waste of time," Tifa huffed, "He's being an anti-social jerk, never talking to us like this."

"Perhaps," Aeris sighed.

Since sending Vincent away, Cloud had become distant and unapproachable. The blond swordsman never visited them, and it was rare that they were able to track him down and speak with him. Even as the leader of the band of fighters who saved the world, Cloud remained the blank face in people's mind. The unknown warrior that only rumors told of.

No one understood Cloud's reasoning behind suddenly leaving and changing, except for Aeris. Inside, the Ancient harbored guilt over the suddenly cold and detached aloofness their leader displayed. Only she knew what had caused it, yet she did not revoke her decision. Wherever Cloud was, whatever he was doing, Aeris could only pray that he was well and that he understood her reasoning behind forbidding him to see Vincent.

In all honesty, it had been a bit drastic. But, considering what the tortured gunman was going through and the time it would take to heal freshly opened wounds, she needed to make sure that Cloud, in his innocent and blinding infatuation, wouldn't inadvertently hurt Vincent further.

"You don't think it's like some post traumatic problem do you? I mean he was pretty obsessed with killing Sephiroth and the whole incident with Zack. You don't suppose the pressure of it all is finally getting to him, do you?" Tifa wondered aloud.

"No, this is something different. He just needs time to himself. I have a feeling it's like a phase, it'll die down," Aeris assured with a small smile. She left out the part that it probably wouldn't die down for another year and some odd months, when the blond swordsman would surely visit Vincent.

Sighing loudly, Tifa slumped her shoulders and let the matter go. "I'm gonna yell at him the next time I see him. Poor Marlene keeps asking about him, I doubt she even remembers what he looks like." Frowning slightly at a new thought, she placed an index finger against her lips. "Though, I can't say that I've seen a lot of Nanaki or Vincent either."

"Nanaki had a lot to take care of in Cosmo Canyon. And Vincent, well he needed to spend time in one place for a while," Aeris explained. It had been nine months or so since anyone aside from herself had seen Vincent and Nanaki.

"But, now they're in Sector 5?" Tifa questioned.

"Yeah, but Nanaki's only there to be with Vincent," Aeris answered. Stifling a giggle, she said, "You should really see him. He's a teacher."

"Nanaki?" Tifa questioned a little surprised.

Aeris shook her head with amusement. "No, Vincent."

Mouth agape again, this time dropping an inch wider than before, Tifa stared. Blinking several times, the bar owner continued to stare in silent disbelief. The only sound that filled the void was the infrequent chatter in the background and the whirring fans above.

"The children love him," Aeris added with an amused gleam to her bright eyes. "I started a small gathering in the church. I just wanted to teach them the basics, since the schools there are so terrible. But, I honestly can't do much beyond that. I grew up there, and the only education I've had is at those terrible schools."

Still disbelieving, Tifa said with incredulity, "So, Vincent's doing it?"

"He came to see me, and he was sitting in on one of the meetings. It just sort of happened. They started asking him all sorts of questions, and even though he glared at them harshly, he answered every single one of them. You should have seen it, it was so precious."

"I need a drink," Tifa stated abruptly, standing from her seat and making to walk around the counter.

Excited to share the progress of the simple group she'd started, Aeris continued, "Now, there are three separate groups. I still manage the littlest ones, everyone from five to eight, but he steps in if I can't be there. They're more like a daycare sort of thing, but I like to teach them things like the alphabet and counting. Then there's nine to twelve, they're the most adorable."

"Oh?" Tifa prompted, just to show she was still listening. Pouring herself a glass of water, she moved closer to again resume the position behind the bar as when they first began talking.

"No matter what Vincent does, they can't get enough of him. He scowls all day, but he never loses his patience with them. And they think he knows everything. They're always coming by after hours just to see him."

"The scowling part sounds like Vincent, but I just can't picture him as a teacher. And I definitely can't picture a group of smiling kids actually enjoying his company," the dark haired woman said wryly, setting her glass down after taking a long gulp.

Aeris didn't seem phased by the other woman's disbelief. "The oldest group, thirteen to sixteen, they were a bit of a struggle. When I started it, I only had the little ones. No one else seemed interest in going to school, most of the parents didn't place any stock in it. But, once Vincent got things rolling, we had a new group. The trouble was, most of them were forced to attend."

Tifa thought for a moment about the poverty-stricken sectors below the plate. Education was not a priority on anyone's list. But, it never died out completely. If a person wanted to ever travel above the plate and maybe find a job there, they'd need to know the basics in math and science, mechanics above all else.

As it was, the strong willed kickboxer hadn't gone to classes since she was seventeen. But, there had been pressing matters that called her attention away.

The only ticket to a free education was to enlist as a SOLDIER. It made sense that if Aeris started some legitimate teaching in Sector 5, that a lot of the parents would think twice about having their kids out on the streets selling potions at forty gil a pop, or freshly picked flowers.

"I can imagine they didn't like having such a big change," Tifa commented, thinking about how the slightly older boys and girls would react to suddenly having requirements set and not being allowed to hang out freely everyday.

"They were rude and vulgar, and one day they tried to douse Nanaki's tail. Vincent was beyond angry at that."

"What'd he do?" Tifa questioned, curious as to what an angry gunman might do when his anger was directed towards a group of teenagers.

"I didn't get to see it," Aeris half pouted, "But it's legendary among all the children."

With interest, Tifa leaned a bit closer, her brown eyes never wavering from the Ancient's heart shaped face.

"According to Jonathon, Mr. Valentine flew through the air and threatened the two boys with the water that if they did it again, he'd rip their throats out. Before that, he had this glove that covered his gauntlet, but when he threatened them, he uncovered it."

Gulping, Tifa pictured an unforgiving gunman menacingly flexing his golden claw. Somehow, that was an easier image to create than a silent teacher calmly instructing students. Still, it also seemed a little out of character. "Isn't that a little violent?"

Aeris laughed. "Very violent. It wasn't like him at all, especially with kids. But, since he's been with Nanaki, they've grown really close. I think he overreacted."

"So, he scared the kids straight," Tifa concluded with a bit of amusement. She doubted it would be amusing in the least if she'd been the one threatened by the red-eyed vampire.

"On the contrary," Aeris refuted, "Jonathon said it was the coolest thing he'd ever seen, and he was one of boys Vincent was threatening. And, now all the girls have hopeless crushes on him. I've read a poem or two about his dark hair and pale skin, and a few other things that I don't sixteen year olds should be writing about."

"Three months, huh?" Tifa commented, not quite believing that so much could change in only a few months. Then again, her bar had changed in what felt like a matter of days. Time had a funny way of speeding up and slowing down.

"Nanaki isn't really all that interested in teaching, but he's usually with Vincent all day anyway."

"I would have pegged him for the teaching type," Tifa stated.

Aeris shook her head slightly. "In his point of view, he's still just a teenager. I doubt he'd consider himself qualified."

"True" Tifa nodded. As a gesturing hand caught her eye in the back, she looked up and took her leave for a moment. "Hold on a sec." With that, she walked to the ordering customer.

Taking another sip of her tea, Aeris noted that the ice was melting. It still tasted sweet and soothed that nagging need for something refreshing on such a heated afternoon.

It was nice to catch up like this, to be here with Tifa and simply talk about what had changed in their lives over the time they were apart. It was also nice to spread the news of Vincent's recovering state, even if no one else understood the true meaning behind any of it. The gunman was far from forgiving himself about Lucrecia and how Sephiroth had turned out, but Nanaki seemed to have instilled some truth into the lost soul. The fire tailed tiger had contacted her the moment Vincent began to seriously question whether he'd done anything to deserve his years of experimentation. The poor man hadn't moved for days on end, simply mumbling random words that seemed to be two sides to an argument.

But, it was progress, and that was all that mattered.

Aeris had been moved to tears by the seeming devotion Nanaki had. Whether born from a common bond as Hojo's experiments, or something else, Vincent had accepted the formerly titled Red XIII's friendship. And, when the gunman made plans to leave, Nanaki had chosen to leave as well, not caring that Cosmo Canyon would be left behind.

There was a long way to go still, but heaven knew Vincent was better off with each day that passed. Her only worry now, was Cloud. It almost seemed as though one man's road to recovery had turned into another's road to destruction.

Tifa returned, calling out an order to the back, where the chef stood at the ready.

"So," Tifa began to pick up where they'd left off, "How does Rufus factor in to all this?"

Coming back from her inner reverie, Aeris smiled and took a moment to gather her bearings. "It might just be a gimmick on Rufus' part, donating any money at all."

"I don't doubt that it is," Tifa added, quickly asserting her views.

"Well, Rufus was interested in meeting Vincent, since he's an ex-Turk and all."

Narrowing her dark eyes, the young woman became serious. "That smells like trouble."

"I know," Aeris agreed. It could be more trouble than the younger woman would ever know. Men who desired power seemed to desire Vincent. The moment she'd first heard of Shinra's president taking an interest in the ex-Turk who'd been sustained for thirty years in a frozen stasis machine built by Hojo, the Ancient instantly became wary. If something were to happen, it could set Vincent back to the beginning and ruin all progress made. But, Nanaki had assured her that he'd stay by the gunman's side at all costs. "But, it seems to have worked out for the better. I haven't heard of Rufus wanting to meet with Vincent since two weeks ago, when he initially made the donation."

Tifa hummed in understanding, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, simply taking the information in.

"The money will do wonders to buy text books and rebuild the church. This coming fall, it should all be finished, and Sector 5 will have a brand new school, open to the public."

"Sounds nice," Tifa said.

After a brief moment of relishing the prospect of the slums becoming a better place for people to live, Aeris' smile faltered. Sobering from the elated moment, she commented solemnly, " I didn't want to be a burden to Vincent, but I think he's being so devoted to it because he knows it's my dream."

"Your dream?" Tifa prompted, interested in hearing about the Ancient's dream.

"I never really had a formal education. My mom taught me what she could and I went to the only school they had, but by the time I was ten, I had to spend my time working. Selling flowers and helping out at Mr. Hernandez' bakery was all I did." Green eyes turned to look into the dark haired woman's eyes. "It's not like I regret how things turned out, but I've always wished things could change, for future generations."

Grumbling, Tifa busied her hands with drying an already dry mug. "You're too nice, you know that?"

"Eh?"

"If I were Vincent, I'd probably become a teacher to help you out too." Tifa's tone wasn't reprimanding, but it did seem to be chastising the older woman a bit.

"You don't think that maybe he's doing it even if he doesn't-"

Tifa cut her off, "I hardly know anything about Vincent Valentine, but I do know that he wouldn't subject himself to the adoring eyes of teenage girls just because you want them to learn a little math."

With a small smile, Aeris gave a nod of agreement. Inside, however, the green eyed woman was not the least bit consoled by the bar owner's assurances. The Ancient knew first hand just how far the gunman would go to please a person.

Subtly, Tifa caught the momentary lapse in Aeris demeanor. Setting the mug down with an ungraceful clank, she asked, "Does he ever smile?"

"Huh?" Aeris intoned in questioned.

"Vincent," Tifa supplied. "I don't think I've ever seen him smile. If he's happy teaching at the church, does he smile?"

Mouth opened, about to reply, Aeris went still. Stopping, she thought back. "When he's grading papers… sometimes I swear that his lips twitch in a smile. But, it's so small, that I usually think I'm seeing things."

Tifa smiled at this. "Don't worry, you're not seeing things."

Aeris nodded uncertainly.

TBC….

A/N Time jump, it's a bit vague, but suffice to say its roughly nine to eight months since that last chapter. It was planned from the beginning. In fact, I was actually going to skip two years ahead completely, but I didn't think it would be nearly as effective unless I gave something of a progress report (hahaha, how fitting is that phrase for this chapter? I amaze myself sometimes ) Anyways, please review, they make me smile. (A big thanks goes out to everyone whose reviews so far, and constantly I might add. You guys are awesome and make my day!)


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven 

Setting Boundaries

Aeris' church, as the others had so titled it, was still in its condition of disrepair. Decades of forgotten faith had left the building to ruin. Having housed the homeless, played the part of the den of thieves, and suffered some more than violent raids during SOLDIER's beginning, the church still stood.

Floor swept, and most of the rubble cleaned away, it was a fair sight better than when he'd arrived six months ago.

With classes that never had more than twenty students at a time, only a few tables were needed. There was plenty of room, considering many of the pews were beyond mending and had been done away with.

It was definitely an odd environment. Crumbling pillars almost seemed threatening upon first entering, making one wonder if the structure might collapse at a strong wind. The jagged breaks in the rooftop certainly kept the place well lit during the day, but it didn't help stop the spreading of plant life.

Aeris, however, was quite keen on the flowers that grew like a small Eden right before the altar. Not only had she first met Cloud there, but also the cushioned bed had saved the ex-SOLDIER's life.

Vincent didn't care much for appearances, so the lush vines that twined around the tall stone pillars, reaching to the heavens and loft above, didn't bother him. Many of the students enjoyed the setting. For the most part, Sector 5 was a drab dessert of dirt and poverty, so flowers and anything living and green was a scarce commodity.

It was dangerous when it rained though. It wasn't often, only when a nasty storm brought torrents of horizontal sheets that swept below the above plateau. It wasn't that the plate blotted out the sky or covered the sector, but they were so close, that when it rained, it usually didn't even reach them. However, on the occasions that it did, Vincent always wondered how the wood hadn't rotted away entirely. It did help that most of the church was stone, but the roofing was not, and would remain a liability until reconstruction.

It was late. Well passed midnight, Vincent found himself staring at the crescent moon in a transfixed state.

Seated on the cold stone steps of what used to serve as an altar, the raven-haired gunman reclined back on his elbows. Pale moonlight filtered in, casting an almost luminescent aura around the white and yellow thicket of flowers. Vincent sat just within reach of those rays, able to look through the hole in the roof at the night sky. The moon wasn't full, but it was such a clear atmosphere, that even light from the stars seemed to cast its shine down to their planet.

Darkly clad, wearing black slacks and a black dress shirt, his pale skin stood out even more for the contrast. To top it all off, he was draped in the ever comforting folds of his thick red cloak. Aeris never liked him to wear it around the children, reprimanding that his choice in black clothing did little to sooth their imaginative minds that he wasn't a vampire, and that the cloak could probably have parents pounding on the church door. Not to mention it almost made it seem like he were a priest conducting sermons instead of teaching algebra. What irony he'd found in her reference to him being a holy man. If he were to choose titles, a vampire was far more suiting.

At this recollection, Vincent gave a small smirk. Young innocence was a wonder. He could have transformed into Chaos before those kids and they'd start asking him questions about whether it hurt or how long he could fly. He'd wager a hefty bet that more than a few would even ask for a ride.

It was almost relieving to see how the state of the world hadn't hurt them. Children could still be children, even the older group he taught.

Not that he cared about them. But, taking a leaf from Aeris book of making the well being of the world her responsibility, it was one less thing for him to have to deal with. That was all.

Their constant chatter and curious natures were still as annoying now as it was when he'd first arrived. The never-ending streams of requests for him to stay late and hang out with them was still just as tiring, along with the sparkly eyed looks of adoration. He couldn't stand it. The only reason he sometimes, well, more often than not, stayed late was because some of them needed extra help. That was all.

The only reason he knew their names by heart was because Aeris said he wasn't allowed to assign them numbers. That was all, nothing more.

His attachment was nonexistent, since he couldn't care less.

The only reason he put up with the front of Shinra's turning over a new leaf ploy was so that Aeris would be happy. This whole school thing was her idea to begin with. She was just a little too preoccupied to deal with it alone, so he'd stepped in temporarily. When the time came, he'd leave without so much as looking back at a single youthful face, because he didn't care.

A deep rumbling laughter filled his head. 'You've grown soft,' the voice spoke.

Red eyes narrowed despite the lack of anything visible to glare at. "And you've become tame," Vincent spat back in respite.

More laughter followed. The sound of Chaos' amusement eventually died down. 'Perhaps,' the dark voice admitted without qualm. 'But only since you opened your eyes.'

Though Vincent was not wont to talking to himself, it wasn't exactly the case considering the spirit forces inside. However, if he so chose he could reply in thought alone. But, he'd grown accustomed to speaking with an actual voice, it made it feel more like there were truly two sides to the conversation and he wasn't simply schizophrenic.

"Am I a fool to still question whether this is all just an easy escape?" the gunman wondered, directing his question to the dark winged demon within himself.

When no reply came, Vincent tilted his head back. The stair behind his back jabbed him uncomfortably. Turning on his side, he curled up and half hugged the top most step with his folded arms. Setting his head down, he managed to glimpse the sky at an angle glance upward.

It was a warm evening, his cloak hardly needed, but it was an old comfort that he couldn't seem to rid himself of.

"Will I ever forget?" Vincent asked, seemingly to the empty room, or perhaps a hidden choir of angels in the shadows above.

'Never,' Chaos answered sternly.

It was difficult to believe that everything Hojo had done had been done for no good reason. Even now, in retrospect, it seemed far more plausible that he'd done something, anything, to deserve it. It just didn't seem right that the mad doctor had experimented on him in such brutal ways simply for the sake of twisted pleasure. He'd been human, a man in love. And for that, his soul was torn and all but destroyed. It was sickening to know he'd spent most of his life, almost fifty-nine years, lost and under ludicrous impressions.

It was ever more pathetic, that even while he now felt he had a truthful grasp on reality, he was always questioning it and never accepting it completely. There were days when sleep would evade him and his mind would become fearful that this was some test to see if he could stick to path of atonement. But, then Nanaki would find him before long and read his eyes, shortly after reprimanding him and supplying him with much needed reassurances.

His only proof that he'd finally come to the correct conclusions was Chaos. The dark winged beast that was previously uncontrollable and constantly crying out for death, had settled down. In fact, Chaos was almost as big an assuring companion as Nanaki or Aeris. The demon would ridicule him for his weakness under Hojo's hand, making snide comments about how it had taken him long enough to finally open up his damn eyes. While this wasn't necessarily proof of anything, the fact that this most untamed spirit force no longer carried any hints of violent threatening or killing was solid proof. Chaos wanted revenge, and killing Hojo had done just that. For Lucrecia, for himself, and perhaps even for Sephiroth.

Yet, his mind was still troubled.

Two years was not very long at all. With a year gone and his life in order, he now found himself consumed with thoughts of a certain blond swordsman.

Where had Cloud gone?

It was for the best though. The young leader who seemed so intent on intimacy, chaste as it might be, would probably not understand his current predicament.

As it was, Vincent could barely stand physical contact. It was a foolish notion in the back of his mind that he couldn't get rid of. His instincts were programmed to shy from even the gentlest of touches, seeing them as only rough hands.

It hadn't been a problem until recently. Before, he'd wanted to back away and refuse all contact, but he'd harbored an even greater force to do whatever others wanted of him. The worst part was, he still had those disgusting feelings of complacency. It was a tiny, distant voice that rarely spoke up anymore, but he heard it whenever he saw that inadvertently hurt gleam in Nanaki or Aeris' eyes at his shunning actions. It told him to suck it up and let them touch him to their heart's content, but he couldn't manage to go against his better instincts.

Poor Aeris had been quite surprised, not sure how to handle his flinching actions when she cupped his cheek not for the first time.

But, as Chaos had said, he'd never forget. Maybe one day, he'd be able to put it all behind, but not now. Not when his two years weren't up.

Sighing, Vincent curled closer into the folds of his cloak. Briefly, he shut his eyes, wondering if that night was going to again bring him no sleep.

Behind closed lids, bright blue eyes shown. His own crimson ones snapped open. Tonight was going to be sleepless. He was restless, wondering where their stupid leader had run off to.

Aeris had placated that separating them had been for both their good. Vincent understood completely. Reflecting on that day on the beach when the Ancient had first expressed her wishes, he'd been beyond relieved.

Looking back, he was even more relieved than his previously guilt ridden and confused mind could have ever been. If he'd started a relationship with the spiky blond back then, he'd have been submissively appeasing to the young man's every whim. At the first sign of lust within the slightly immature and inexperienced young man's Mako eyes, Vincent would have immediately dropped to his knees and bent over. And the love struck puppy wouldn't have known the difference between misplaced feelings of duty and true reciprocation.

Eventually, however, Cloud would have understood, but who knew how long they might have been together by then. If the blond had been mislead and remained under some impression that they'd become deeply involved lovers, and then one day realized that his partner was simply with him to make up for nonexistent sins, it would have been disastrous.

Aeris had foreseen this. She'd been the unbiased set of eyes, able to see both sides clearly. She'd recognized Cloud's growing desires, the small gleams of affection and wonder in the leader's eyes when staring at the mysterious new party member. Knowing Cloud's past, it had been easy to spot the inexperienced seeds of love sprouting.

However, the sweet Ancient had not foreseen the negative reaction Cloud would have at being denied what his eyes had settled upon. Though, Vincent had an inexplicable feeling that perhaps the blond swordsman had achieved some self-realization in the matter, and departed for his own reasons.

The gentle creaking of the large double doors caught his attention. Not stirring, he feigned ignorance for a moment. The subdued sound of expensive shoes against the sanded wooden planks of the floor hinted that the new arrival was trying to be quiet. With a small smirk, Vincent found the attempt pathetic.

It was at times like that he felt cursed beyond reason. He was a man without a doubt, albeit not the most masculine of sorts. Yet, every person he seemed to attract was also male. Then again, it was less insulting in regards to him being feminine if he were to think that these men were simply power hungry and sensed Chaos within him. Yes, it was much more reassuring to think that these men were attracted to Chaos and not him.

"It's a bit late and unorthodox for you to be here," Vincent spoke evenly, just loud enough for the intruder to hear.

"I have a passion for my work, I like to know what's going on at every moment," the well-mannered voice of Shinra's president explained.

"This church is not where your funds are going. The school is around back," Vincent pointed out coldly. "But, you already knew that," his voice was subtly accusing.

Soft chuckling filled the air. "I tried your apartment, but you weren't there."

Lifting his head from his folded arms, Vincent moved for the first time. Sitting upright he scowled towards the white suit businessman. "You're a terrible liar," he accused outright this time. He cared little for these games of the slicked haired blond.

"Am I that transparent?" Rufus asked with a tone of disbelief. In truth, he was actually a great liar, but this ex-Turk seemed to see through everything.

Crimson eyes glared, relaying the message that he was merely putting up with the president's presence for the sake of their contract. "If you went to my apartment, Nanaki would be here now."

Humming in agreement, Rufus stepped closer, regardless of the icy glare he was receiving at each step. "Your friend doesn't seem to like me very much," he complained in mock hurt.

At the slight inflexion the rich man spoke with when calling the tiger creature his 'friend', Vincent's scowl deepened. "He's a fair judge in character," he retorted defensively.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you don't like me much either." Stepping within the light, the shadows hiding his form from sight receded. Blues eyes stared intently into crimson red.

Scoffing, Vincent kindly pointed out, for at least the fifth time, "I generally don't make nice with people who employ scientists to perform experiments on live human specimens without any consent."

For the first time, the impassive features of Shinra's president showed emotion. Pale thin lips frowned. "I've told you before that I was unaware of that."

Raising his head to better meet Shinra's gaze, Vincent stared stubbornly for a lengthened moment. "So you say," he finally spoke with a nod of acceptance. What did it matter anymore? He wasn't about to go on a killing spree of everyone who could be traced to simply walking across the mansion's lawn whilst he was held captive in the basement below. Rufus Shinra had never been his target, and without Chaos raising hell about it, he was more than able to simply let it go.

A subtle smile graced the president's features. Casually raking a hand through his pristinely kept hair, he strode even closer, towering over the curled form huddled within that thick red cloak.

Vincent was momentarily taken aback by the man's audacity in approaching so closely. Having plainly established a good four-foot boundary with all their previous meetings, the young president had never shown any gesture that might break the invisible barrier.

The gunman was both angry and apprehensive. His anger was over the liberty this man was taking and the undeniable fear that crept along his spine. More than capable of fending for himself, he hated feeling fear of any kind. Perhaps, he was afraid that he'd suddenly revert to his former self and be rendered helpless within the restrained confines of his conscious that wouldn't allow him to fight back.

"You should leave," the raven-haired man spoke suddenly, an unmistakable flash of fear crossing those red eyes.

With concern that seemed nothing but mocking to the gunman, Rufus stooped closer. "Why do you fear me?"

Defensively, Vincent hissed out, "I don't"

As if to prove a point, Rufus kneeled in a genuflecting manner and reached a hand out. At the flinching reaction, he let his arm fall away.

Forcefully masking all traces of fear, Vincent scowled once more, glaring as harshly as he could manage.

Before Vincent could utter a reprimanding reply to Rufus' actions, an echoing voice resounded through the above structure of crossing beams and supports for the high roof. "Keep your distance," was the harsh order.

Red eyes widened in familiar recognition. It wasn't exactly the same as he remembered, the voice was a bit deeper and gruffer, and with the bellowing echo it was hard to tell.

The brash businessman shot quick glances around the shadowed area, scouring the high ceiling for the source of disturbance. "And who are you to tell me what to do?" the foolhardy reply came with an arrogance only held by the upper class.

Vincent's trained eyes barely managed to catch the blur of movement as a dark shadow suddenly approached. From the far corner, the shadow seemed to fly as it crossed each wooden beam.

There was little warning for Shinra's president as the metallic sheen of a broadsword crashed down. Effectively stabbed directly into the hard wooden flooring just before marble steps, the large sword separated the stunned president from an equally stunned gunman.

The wielder remained crouched, hand still gripping the hilt of his sword. Back turned to the gunman, Cloud slowly raised his head. Bright blue eyes flashed threateningly in the moonlight as the spiky haired blond glared fiercely towards Rufus Shinra. "Keep your distance," Cloud bit out darkly.

"Cloud?" Vincent spoke softly with an incredulous tone.

The swordsman's defensive demeanor abruptly dropped. Uprooting the blade from the floorboards, the blond deftly secured it at his back with a practiced arc of the blade through the air. Vincent imagined the sound it made cutting the air.

Turning, Cloud took up Rufus' previous position. "Forgive me, it's premature," the blond spoke.

Before Vincent could commit the subtle changes in the fighter's face to memory, he was gone. Blinking in disbelief, Vincent turned his head upright. The inhuman movements were the least of his concern as he saw that same shadowed form dart like a silhouette against the sky.

"Cloud Strife?" Rufus spoke with no trace of shock or unsettlement over the sudden event.

Without thinking about his actions, Vincent stood up unclasped his cloak. Letting the garment fall to the ground he kept his eyes trained on the sky. With the intent to follow the swordsman, the gunman called on Chaos for help.

'You're a fool,' the demon cursed.

"I don't care," Vincent spoke, unaware of the president's continued presence. "I want to follow him," the raven-haired gunman urged.

It was just one more ridiculous and inexplicable response he was having. But he felt as though he was losing something important. The swordsman moved with a speed that only came from great strength and level of power. There was only way Vincent could possibly hope to follow.

Rushed, with hands that shook a bit, Vincent unbuttoned his shirt.

"What are you doing?" the blond president asked in shock.

Red eyes snapped to the man nearby. "I'm following," he responded. With haste, he struggled to cast his shirt aside, the pale skin of his torso exposed. "Please, Chaos!" he shouted with desperation.

'Fool,' the demon cursed once more, but this time complied.

With a painful bursting of dark bat-like wings, Vincent staggered forward and nearly fell to his knees. Gritting his teeth, he painfully stretched the appendages. Baring fangs, he sought to follow with his air born ability.

TBC….

A/N Not the longest of chapters, but I got some action in there at the end. No doubt there are spelling and grammar errors and the like, but you know how it can be. All the kinks won't be smoothed out until much later, when my eyes are clearer and the story is finished. Unless it's really bad, like to the point where you don't even know what I was saying, then I'd like to know so that I can fix it. Anyways, please review, I love to get feedback, it lets me know if I'm keepings everything in order and going in the right direction.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Too Long to Wait

Since that night in the church, when Cloud had suddenly shown up and threatened Rufus to keep his distance, Vincent was mildly pleased that Shinra's president seemed to have taken heed of the hissed words of warning. However, the raven

was consumed with thoughts of the blond swordsman. He hardly had a moment's rest when his mind would suddenly wander and begin to wonder about the currently missing ex-SOLDIER. 

Having lost Cloud during the chase, or rather never even catching a second glimpse of the swordsman's shadowed form, Vincent had been completely perplexed by it all. During his confused trek back into town, he couldn't explain his sudden desperation to follow.

If he'd wanted to see Cloud he would have joined Aeris in her tracking mission around the world. But, he hadn't. Yet, the moment he caught sight of the blond again, he automatically scrambled to not lose sight again.

Why?

* * *

The new school building for Sector 5 had finished its construction in little over six months, just in time for the new fall semester.

Three months since Vincent's encounter with Cloud that night, the gunman once again opted for a change in life style. He hardly planned on spending the rest of his life as some schoolmarm, that was just wrong for anyone who once belonged to the Turks.

With the classes in the hands of hired professionals, Vincent took his leave with the assurance that Aeris would not be disappointed. In his opinion, it had been a clean break, no strings attached. His promise to return at least twice each quarter was only because the kindhearted Ancient had been pleading the children's case. It was for her sake, not the talkative brats, who often reminded him of Yuffie. Or so he told himself.

For a short while, Vincent returned to Cosmo Canyon, more for the sake of Nanaki than himself. Sentimental attachments weren't really something he had concerning the place, especially when each corner brought back memories of his struggle times with learning the truth. Okay, so there was obvious some sentiment contained in Nanaki's home, but it wasn't the sort he cared to remember. He'd rather put it all behind.

For the first time in a long time, Vincent ventured off on his own. Nanaki remained in Cosmo Canyon, while the raven-haired gunman set off the get a better feel for the world. After thirty years, it truly had changed to a near unrecognizable state.

Vincent imagined he was wandering just like Cloud, and often dreamt about coincidentally meeting with the swordsman. It was a childish sort of fantasy that was not a usual habit for the gunman. But with so many unanswered questions and open possibilities of how to read into that late night meeting in the church, he was left little choice.

Why was he so obsessed with the matter? Why had Cloud been there? Could he conclude from the blond's words that the ex-SOLDIER had gone rogue for his sake, to keep distance for two whole years? Was he being watched over?

It was maddening to have such empty days and nights that left Vincent nothing to do but mull over each aspect repeatedly.

Restless with a seeming affliction of hammering thoughts, Vincent vainly tried to another stationary settlement to bring reprieve.

With the overhanging words of a wiser than she should be for her age Ancient, the gunman considered that while he hardly knew much about any of the group members, they were still friends. Surprisingly, this proved true, when he'd shown up in Sector 7.

Once again living in one place, Vincent worked for Tifa at her bar.

Business was never better, the weekends brining in hoards of people that sometimes lined the streets just to order food to go. That was the benefit of having skilled chefs in a low key sort of bar like 7th Heaven. Well, it wasn't very low key anymore, but it was still managed and owned by a single person.

* * *

Amidst the hustle and bustle of a busy bar, a young Wutai ninja amused herself by spinning around in the barstool. To the point where she became dizzy, Yuffie giggled at her simple pleasure while ignoring the odd stares from the adults around her.

"Yuffie, they'll think your drunk and then I'll in trouble for supplying a minor," Tifa chastised, busily filling glasses and shots behind the counter.

Dark violet eyes sparkled with amusement. "You should have thought of that before you got these new stools. They spin all the way around, that's just begging for me to have fun."

"Don't you have a job to do?" the raven-haired woman reprimanded, momentarily stilling her movements to place a hand on her hip and frown.

"Yes, boss!" Yuffie chimed, hopping from her seat and twirling around while trying to remember which tables she was supposed to be waiting on.

Yuffie ambled along, unaware of anything that dealt with the responsibilities of a job. Wearing 7th Heaven's trademarked black apron, bound around her waist and falling near her ankles, she stepped along with precise balance. Her raven hair was slightly lengthened from is bobbed cut, but still barely reached her chin. Having grown little over the past year and nine months, she was still the slightly gangly, sly ninja she'd always been. Though her innocent appearance would have been useful in tricking an enemy, most people knew she'd been a fighter against Sephiroth, so that little façade was easily done away with.

During her leisure time in the summer months, she had left Wutai to hang out with Tifa. Aside from having fun in general and being allowed the perks of being in a bar when she was underage, there was also a satisfying pleasure in being associated with Tifa Lockheart. In Wutai and in Sector 7, her friends were all jealous that she was such a close friend to the famous raven-haired kickboxer. As a fighter and model, Tifa's fame had grown as the popularity of 7th Heaven had grown. And now, there was the added bonus of knowing Vincent too. The gunman's name was reaching the ears of the well-to-do class on the plate above.

Just yesterday there had been a group of rich housewives that came all the way down to the slums just to order some water and have _Valentine_ serve it to them.

Some nights tended to get a bit rowdy, which was expected with tables of drunken fools. But, there was never any danger, perhaps some mild annoyance, nothing more. Between Tifa and Yuffie, they could handle a hoard of liquored men. Tifa and Yuffie were perfectly safe.

Vincent, however, was another story. In a fight, the gunman was skilled enough to take down most any opponent. The trouble was, with paying customers who meant no harm, Vincent couldn't slice them up with his claw or shoot them down with Peacemaker. While the two women were well versed in the learned etiquette of gently turning down the boisterous and drunken offers, the raven-haired man was not.

In Tifa's observant brown eyes, the gunman was the same as ever, despite Aeris comments that Vincent had changed so much. Always the infrequent talker, the pale man seemed more apt to handle giggling schoolgirls with violence than with suave charm. Vincent was definitely a looker, but he lacked all personality for the part of a ladies' man. And somehow, this only managed to make the problem worse. It gave him a mysterious air that women couldn't get enough of.

The worst times were when it wasn't just the women, but the men too. It usually only happened when the men were drunk enough to not care that Vincent was obviously a guy. Stealing a quick pinch to the gunman's ass was something Tifa nearly died over. On many occasions, such gestures were done to her with an accompanying wink, to which she'd respond with a grunt and gentle slap to the person's hand. It wasn't appropriate in the least, but if the bar owner ever felt harassed beyond her boundaries she'd kick the customers out.

In general, it was all good-natured fun and banter. People were too grateful for what they'd done to ever seriously intend rudeness and vulgarity, even in the most drunk of states. However, Tifa doubted that Vincent understood all this. Like Cloud, the ex-Turk probably had a life apart from the rest of the world. Then after thirty some years of being completely cut off, the new aged jibing and cynical attitudes were probably a bit unfamiliar.

Each time something happened, and Tifa would see a particular gleam to those crimson eyes, she'd speak up from wherever she was at the time and jest that if the person weren't careful, _Valentine_ might have some new target practice.

Likewise, each time, Vincent would comment coldly that if she were any less of an acquaintance he wouldn't hesitate to break the perpetrators fingers.

Tifa was somewhat assuaged from stressing over the matter by the feeling that Vincent would never intentionally harm a civilian no matter how provoked he might become. It was an odd conclusion to draw from such solemn and often threatening red eyes, but she couldn't help but feel that Vincent was never the type of person to kill for game or sport. Perhaps that was what Aeris meant by the gunman having changed drastically. Before, when they were all fighting together, there was sorrow and anger in those eyes, and she knew without a doubt that the raven-haired man sought to spill blood.

Being an ill fit and bothersome line of socializing work was a stipulation Vincent quickly learned to over look. From the very start it became apparent that working for Tifa as a waiter was going to help him overcome his problems with physical contact.

From obtrusive gropes, which were rare though far more frequent than he'd ever care for, to blatant staring, he'd slowly but surely learned to relax. Granted, each time someone dared to brashly run a hand along his arm and invite him to dinner, or whatever else it was those middle aged women so loved to do, he wanted to level his gun to their head. But, between not being allowed to make threats or at least cause a flesh wound, Vincent had trained himself to accept it all as casual and harmless.

The gunman was most reluctant to learn that all this unwanted attention was doted upon him because according to whatever trivial societal values that dictated the appearance of beauty, he was considered an attractive person. Not a disfigured monster that every stared at in disgust, but….

Vincent sighed.

"Hey handsome," a soft voice cooed.

Wincing at the greeting, the gunman longed for his cloak to bury his face into. He could handle the less than convenient for mobility apron, which practically wrapped around his legs entirely, but without his cloak he felt utterly exposed.

Painted red lips pulled upwards in a well-practiced smile. Blond curly hair bounced slightly as the perpetual twenty-two year old woman leaned forward. If her cleavage was exposed audaciously from the movement, she was surely none the wiser. "Your tie's crooked," she purred.

Biting back all retorts at the woman's actions, Vincent maintained his cool expression, hoping his growing revulsion wasn't showing. Trixi, something or other, was a well-known face among the pop media on the above level. While the bleach blond wasn't Tifa's friend, they'd become acquainted on the shoot or two. And, now, Trixi was one of Valentine's more persistent customers.

Feigning ignorance, Vincent regarded his black tie against his equally black dress shirt. There was nothing crooked about it, except the smug woman's perception that if she continually initiated close contact with him they'd some how fall in love.

"Don't trouble yourself, let me get it for you," her low voice pressed in a painfully obvious manner of seduction.

Vincent couldn't quite remember just how many times this same ploy had been used not just by the curly haired blond, but many others. He'd do away with the damn tie if it weren't a part of the uniform. Why was it that no one ever adjusted Yuffie's tie? She practically wore it around her head and no one seemed to notice it was out of place.

He was beginning to think that monster or pretty boy, his appearance was a curse either way.

Reluctantly, Vincent set his empty tray down gently and bent closer. The tail of his bound hair slid over his shoulder with the action. Crimson eyes rolled in annoyance as ridiculously long nails snuck under the knot of his tie and pretended to make the proper adjustments. Before he could pull away, a single index finger kept his chin on point.

Vincent silently congratulated himself for not feeling the least bit threatened. Completely repulsed, definitely, but not frightened. Four months ago he probably would have fled the scene with a furious mixture between embarrassment over his instinctive fear and inability to handle himself.

"What's a guy like you doin' way down here?" Trixi pouted slightly. Hazel eyes made an obvious scan over the pale gunman's delicate facial features.

It wasn't often that Yuffie was around to see how some of the more confident customers treated Vincent. The young ninja stood with her mouth open at a nearby table. Completely ignoring the continued attempts by the couple she was serving to get her attention, the young girl set her tray down and stalked over to Vincent.

Grumbling under her breath about how they hadn't even dared to talk to him like that when they were all sleeping in the came camp, the ninja sidled up close before forcing her way in between the two.

"Who do you think you are?" Yuffie asked angrily.

"Yuffie," Vincent hissed out, carefully scanning the area for prying eyes.

"You can't touch him," the ninja stated firmly. The reclusive attitude the gunman always had was enough to make her certain that he didn't like to be touched or talked to. Turning around, she looked up into red eyes. "You don't have to take that."

Without showing his annoyance, Vincent subtly raised his gloved hand and questioned, "And what would you have me do little ninja?"

Despite the sarcasm surrounding the titled reference, Yuffie beamed as though the gunman had called her sweetheart. "You're really strange you know that? Just tell her you're not the least bit interested," as the violet eyed girl said this she impressed the words with a glare over her shoulder, "Tell 'em it's inappropriate."

Brows furrowed, Vincent looked from the short ninja to the ruffled woman seated just behind her. Confused, the gunman wasn't sure what to do. He began to get angry when Chaos started laughing at him. Glaring sharply, not intentionally directing it at the blond model, but inadvertently causing her to suddenly flinch in surprise, Vincent let out a gruff sigh. Working along side Yuffie was always a challenge.

Yuffie, seeing Vincent's complete ineptitude, rolled her eyes and turned back to the arrogant woman. "You can't touch Vincent, he doesn't like it. Besides, he's already taken."

"What?" Vincent involuntarily questioned.

Scoffing, Yuffie frowned in displeasure. Everyone assumed she was too carefree and young to notice anything. "Don't tell me you and Cloud didn't have something going on. Besides," she leaned close and whispered, "I overheard Aeris when she made him promise not to get involved until your two years were up." Leaning back she gave an over exaggerated wink. Giving Trixi the evil eye, she skipped off to actually do her job.

Huffing indignantly, the blond in the little red dress shot daggers at the rude waitress. "Well that was uncalled for," she whined.

Vincent didn't bother agreeing.

"So, I take it a lot of girls get jealous," the woman said, resuming her previous attempts at attracting the man's eye.

"Will it be the usual?" Vincent questioned once again picking the round tray up. Three more months and he'd be rid of all this.

Somewhere along the line, he'd begun to assume that at the end of two years he'd see Cloud again. In three long months, he'd be rid of this consuming desire to see the swordsman. Whether a single glance would satiate his growing longing or a few more nights spent together like they did when tracking Sephiroth, it didn't matter.

Right now, he felt antsy. After striving to become whole again he finally felt as though he didn't have any mental barriers stopping him from living a normal life. Normal by an ex-Turk's standards anyway. He honestly didn't know what he'd like to be doing. Putting his skills as a fighter to use was probably the only way he'd ever fit in. For now it was simply filling the space of these two years.

He had no idea when he'd changed so much. Perhaps he'd changed little by little as each day passed. In most ways he was still the same as ever, which was something he had not intention on correcting. He spoke little, only when he truly felt compelled or if required. He kept to himself, relishing the solitude that came with even a few tables between himself and the closest person.

On nights like these he questioned whether or not he'd be capable of waiting for the allotted amount of time.

The woman had said something, but he didn't manage to catch it. Losing his focus to this extent was telling him just how muddled his mind must be.

With a frown, the blonde ceased her easy natured smiling. "Valentine?" she whined.

Vincent hated that name, at least in the sense that people like Trixi used it.

A hand reached out to play with the strings on his apron, which wound twice about his slim waist. "When are we going to quit playing these games? Go on a real date with me, I can make it worth your while."

Unable to suppress a groan, Vincent stated lamely, in a repetitive manner, "I'm not interested and this is inappropriate."

With a deepened frown, the assured woman persisted, "Don't let that little girl spoil our fun. She won't tell Lockheart about mixing business with pleasure."

The suede material of his glove crinkled as he tightened his metallic fist. It was in that moment he seemed to realize how familiar this situation was. It was a disturbing parallel to the stream of events prior to when he'd opened his eyes. There were people who came to this bar, or who visited him in churches at night, who wanted him or something from him. And, in each instance, he'd been a complete coward with no spine. Either he was bending over and taking it for atonement, or he was flinching away in fear. Now, he was biting the bullet and writing it off as civility towards customers. Maybe Tifa and Yuffie could handle it, but he was taking the most shit from anybody and given his track record, it was anything but harmless.

Before he could lose his temper and take it out on the woman, Vincent jerked away from her hand and strode for the kitchen. While that conceited model could use a few words of reprimand, she'd been coming in here for the better part of two months on an almost weekly basis. In those times he'd never lead her to believe that her actions were unwanted, so he couldn't very well go off on her this night.

Passing by a curious Tifa, he mumbled that he was taking a break.

Rumbling laughter filled the back room, the chefs talking amongst themselves. The lighting was much brighter, but he hardly noticed as he tossed his tray on an empty aluminum countertop and hastily exited through the back door.

It felt like a warm summer breeze swept through the air as he leapt down the short flight of stairs and paced just far enough away to drown out all noise of mingling strangers. This definitely wasn't the job for him, especially after he felt it had helped him as much as it was going to. If he could stand that woman's touch, he could probably handle Rufus at this point too.

Nipping the clothed material on his fingertip, he pulled his glove off. He shouldn't have to wear this. It wasn't like people hadn't already seen it. Though, it did make for gripping mugs and glasses better.

Frustrated and needing an outlet, the raven-haired _waiter _violently jabbed his clawed hand against the brick building that neighbored 7th Heaven. Raking his fingers along the solid graphing, he left five deep gouges.

Huffing in relief, he pressed his back against the solid building and raised his head to the sky. He was truly a fool. No, fool was an understatement for what he was. Just how long would it take for him to realize the truth behind everything? Just when he thought he'd seen the errors to his ways, he had yet another epiphany.

Pathetic was a good term that came to mind.

Yes, work in a social environment, it'll do wonders for ridding that nasty little habit of cowering like a child if someone accidentally bumps into him. Never mind that men seemed unable to decipher thoughts derived from their tiny brains and thoughts from their tiny heads. He could roll over like dog and take it.

Reaching up with his right hand he clumsily tore at his tie, loosening it just enough to then undo the first couple buttons of his shirt. Yanking the elastic band from his hair, he ran his fingers through it to smooth it out.

Silently he vowed that from that moment forth, he did nothing that he didn't want to do. He was done living for others. He was done being complacent. He was done being burdened by the twisted instincts Hojo had ground into him.

Absently tossing the small band away, he sank to the ground. Knees bent, he sighed and returned his focus to the clear skies above. There was no moon in sight, but the stars shown just as brightly as that night he'd seen Cloud. It was the same season too.

Where was the stupid swordsman? Why wasn't he here? What was so damn important that Cloud needed to disappear like this?

The blond fighter had mentioned that their last meeting was premature. That would suggest Cloud had no plans on seeing him for at least another three months.

It was backwards now. Before he'd felt overwhelmed with relief that he wouldn't have to see Cloud, but now he couldn't stop wishing that weren't the case.

Why?

Why did he feel this incessant need to see the bright-eyed warrior?

Those nights, those two nights, when he'd been held close had been warm. Looking back, now knowing it wasn't out of pity or the fated role of becoming a punisher, Vincent could only feel that it had been warm. Deep down, beyond his worries about not wanting to taint the young man, he'd felt comforted. More so with their first night than the second, but he couldn't deny that there was some feeling of attachment for both times. Though, it might simply be the attachment he added on to the memory after the fact.

There was no regret for how everything had turned out. But, he was extremely discontent with his increasing feelings of unrest. He doubt he'd ever be able to definitively state that he was completely recovered from Hojo's experiments, but with a year and nine months behind him, he felt confident that he was a whole man, sound of mind. So, what was there to do beyond recovering?

He wondered if the swordsman were watching over him. That time with Rufus couldn't have been coincidence, could it? The blond had been nearby, watching. Yet, no matter how often he tried to sense the younger man's presence, he couldn't.

Aeris was still off looking for their leader, which would seem to imply that he wasn't nearby.

But how could he be certain?

He couldn't, and that was a part of what was driving him into such an uneasy state.

Briefly, he'd toyed with the idea that he was lovelorn. Longing for the remaining time to go by faster, and constantly thinking about the man, it was a logical conclusion to come to. While it was logical, it was also ridiculous. He'd been in the company of the blond for a matter of weeks. During that time, they'd conversed rarely, and only on strategic matters dealing with Sephiroth. The last few nights had been strange and a complete change in pace, but it had only still only been a few days.

Could someone fall in love so quickly? And considering the state of mind he'd been in at the time, was it even possible for him to know the difference between his own feelings of want and the returning of feelings projected onto him by the swordsman?

There was really only one way to find out. He had to see Cloud again.

He could not handle three months of such a lovelorn state, it was demeaning and simply not like him.

"You have the worst timing of any person I've ever met," Vincent spoke aloud to the vacant alley. The blond was there when he didn't want him to be and not there when he did. "I want to see you," he mumbled in a lower voice.

In a sulking manner, he drew his legs in closer, hugging his knees to his chest, and dropped his head down.

"I can't do anything about my timing, but you've only ever had to ask and I would have come."

Dark strands of hair fluttered as Vincent snapped his head up at the familiar voice. Brows cringed in a pained expression, the gunman refused to get his hopes up. It was more likely his imagination taking his nightly dreams to the next level. Still, there was a small flutter sensation in the pit of his stomach and he couldn't quite make himself believe it wasn't real.

"Cloud?" he whispered tentatively.

A deep humming responded from the shadowed stairwell nearby. "You don't seem happy to see me," the voice spoke in a chastising manner.

Gracefully standing, Vincent strode closer. Already, more words had been spoken than during their brief meeting before. He was afraid that the fighter would leave again. "You've been watching me," the gunman spoke the obvious, holding a slight tone of accusation.

Moving from the shadows, the spiky haired blond took a few steps down. "I've been waiting," Cloud corrected.

"This whole time?" Vincent asked incredulously.

Low chuckling flowed through the air. "No, I had my own soul searching to do."

"What did Aeris tell you?" the gunman questioned, walking even closer. Standing was the bottom of the stairs, he gazed up at the familiar, yet strange face of Cloud Strife. He was exactly the same, yet older. It might have just been the eyes, or perhaps the swordsman's aura that seemed to have matured.

With a whimsical smile, Cloud stepped down, bringing them a single step away from each other. "She told me the truth," the blond answered. When crimson eyes stared at him expectantly, he continued, "We were both blind." Reaching out, he gently set his palm against the raven beauty's soft cheek.

"And now?" Vincent questioned almost hopefully. Unconsciously, he tilt his head slightly, openly leaning into the touch.

A soft smile tugged the blue-eyed man's lips upwards. "And now, I've seen the world, learned a few things I never could as SOLDIER. Now, I'm not so blind."

"I'm sorry I never believed you," Vincent abruptly spoke.

Casually, Cloud moved his hand, running his thumb along the smooth skin in a stroking manner. "I never expected you to. I was brash and jealous, and never expected things to go so wrong."

Vincent frowned, not understanding what he meant.

"I thought Hojo was the only person who could set you straight, but I never imagined… well, I didn't know he'd hurt you so badly." Cloud had never expected that Hojo would be able to quickly sway the determined gunman from the path of revenge. And then, all hell broke loose with Sephiroth.

"That's not your fault," the dark haired man assured.

"And what Hojo did to you isn't your fault," Cloud countered.

Resolute red eyes gleamed. Bowed lips frowned before stating, "I know that."

"What happened to Lucrecia isn't your fault," the blond followed up.

"I know that," Vince replied in time.

"What happened with Sephiroth is not your fault." His fingers trailed, skimming through silken hair.

"I know," the gunman replied again. Vincent had to consciously keep his eyes from closing as a pleased shiver ran down his spine at the feel of the swordsman's fingers in his hair.

"When people stare at you, it's not your fault." Cloud leaned a bit closer, staring down from his higher position.

With a soft chuckle, Vincent played along. "I know," he repeated.

"They're not allowed to touch you," Cloud continued with an undertone of possessive aggression.

"I know," Vincent assured soothingly.

"You're not a monster."

"I take it you've been listening to my daily mantra that Aeris wrote," the gunman concluded.

With a smirk, Cloud quirked a brow and admitted to being guilty of that much. "You're beautiful," the blond whispered huskily.

Vincent didn't reply. There were only so many times he could say the same phrase.

"None of it was your fault," Cloud pressed, twining his fingers in dark tresses and urging the gunman to keep going.

"I know," Vincent muttered once again.

"Except," the fighter countered, taking a final step down, he stood only slightly shorter than the raven-haired gunman. "What you've done to me is entirely your fault."

Taking the blond's meaning quickly enough, Vincent used his hand to direct Cloud's hand from his hair and back to his cheek. Affectionately, he turned into the calloused palm and nuzzled it. "One can only hope," he replied playfully.

No longer in need of words, Cloud snaked his free arm around the sultry man's slim waist. Pulling him closer, he swiftly leaned in and pressed their lips together. It was an overwhelming sensation that quickly created the need to never relent his old and delve deeper.

As their lips meshed together greedily, and Vincent eagerly welcomed the searching flick of a tongue, the gunman knew that this was what he'd been after all these months. Lovelorn was an understatement. He was downright desperate and starved for this sort of contact with Cloud.

When the heated exchange drew to an end, Vincent panted for air and grasped tightly to the blond's dark navy shirt. He didn't want the swordsman to leave suddenly, not after that kiss, not ever.

Elated, but wary, Cloud wrapped his arms around the lithe form, drawing Vincent close against his chest. "I want to be with you," he whispered against soft hair.

Head burrowed against the blond's neck, Vincent shifted his hold on the pleated vest-like top and hugged the swordsman's hips. It was his silent way of returning the same feeling.

"I'm a patient man, so we'll take this slow," he assured, gently stroking the gunman's hair.

Vincent almost scoffed at the most prominent change in the leader. That's why the younger man was off for so long. He needed to mature, to see the world like he said he had.

"I won't hurt you," Cloud assured.

Vincent smiled at this. Face still burrowed as though the blond man were a replacement for his cloak, he replied in a muffled voice, "I know."

THE END


	13. Chapter 13

Epilogue

The patterned scuffing of feet over worn wooden flooring filled the impatient void of silence. Yuffie swung her feet back and forth, her socked toes sliding along.

With an impressive assortment of dishes just waiting to be eaten, the near complete band of fighters sat around the table waiting.

Cloud and Vincent hadn't shown up yet.

"Shera!" Cid shouted.

With her hands on her hips, the middle-aged rocket scientist scowled at the ever whining, ever yelling pilot. "I'm in the next room, not two towns over," she shot back.

Aeris, Tifa, and Yuffie stifled their laughter over the surprised expression in the pilot's blue eyes.

"Are they comin'?" he grumbled, shooting a glare to the giggling girls.

"They said they'd be here, so they'll be here," Shera replied.

Mischievous violet eyes gleamed. "I bet they stopped off for a quickie," the Wutai ninja said.

"Yuffie," Tifa chastised with shock. "You're supposed to be the innocent one here."

"I'm nineteen," the ninja complained. "Besides, last I saw, they couldn't keep their hands off each other."

Aeris sat wringing her hands in her lap. "When was that?"

"Last week," Yuffie sang. "Their house is awesome. Has everyone seen it?"

"No," Barrett grumbled. "But, I'd appreciate it if your perverted little mind didn't say too much 'round Marlene."

"Oh please," Yuffie retorted, "Like you don't let her hang out at the bar all the time."

"I like being a waitress," the young girl chirped beside her father.

Aeris looked around a bit nervously. There seemed to be a tension in the room for some reason. It might have been the odd presence of Rufus Shinra, but after him and Tifa dating for four months, she doubted that was why.

"It's weird you know," Cid stated abruptly.

Aeris sighed. "What is?"

"Them dating like this. I mean, two guys and all," the blond pilot explained further.

Yuffie snorted. She gave a knowing smirk. "I think more than one man has been attracted to Vincent," she declared.

Tifa frowned, reaching under the table and grabbing Rufus' hand. While Shinra's president was the last man in existent she ever picture herself becoming involved with, it happened anyway. After visiting her bar in an increasingly frequent manner, with eyes that constantly strayed in search of a certain red-eyed waiter, those eyes had eventually settled upon herself. It was no secret that Rufus was one a many people affected by Vincent's other worldly presence and appearance. At the reassuring squeeze the regal rich boy gave her hand she smiled contently. No one wanted to believe that he'd turned over a new leaf, and she even suspected that he actually hadn't until they'd become involved.

While Yuffie's comment just so happened to include more than one person at the table, she was directing it to Cid. As such, the gruff pilot scratched the back of his head and gave a faint blush. Standing up, he excused himself for a moment to get some tea.

The moment Cid was in the kitchen with Shera, Yuffie broke out into a laughing fit. "He's too easy sometimes," she managed to speak.

"What'd I miss?" Barrett asked with confusion.

"Nothing," Nanaki answered. Shaking his head at the ninja's antics he prayed for the gunman to arrive soon and bring some much needed sanity.

With a smile, Aeris relished the more comfortable atmosphere that seemed to have replaced the tension. "I think they're perfect for each other," she voiced in firm belief.

"Yeah, yeah," the dark skinned gunner grumbled. "Can we talk about something other than Cloud and Vincent hookin' up?"

"How about my engagement?" Tifa offered.

As silence fell around the table, and Cid popped his head back in at the lack of noise, every set of eyes turned to a blushing kickboxer turned bar owner turned model.

While Tifa seemed frozen under everyone's stares, Rufus was never one to be flustered. Deftly raising the young woman's hand from beneath the table, their fingers twined, he flashed for all their eyes the expensive ring the raven-haired girl had been bashfully hiding all night.

The first to react was the brown haired Ancient. Aeris, who was seated on Tifa's other side, swiftly pulled the recently engaged woman into a tight hug. "Congratulations!" she cried.

With a relieved exhale, Tifa relaxed into the hug. She honestly wasn't sure how everyone was going to take it. It was all so sudden, and everyone still seemed a bit wary of the blond president's intentions.

"I thought this was a celebration for my rocket launch into space," Cid commented before taking a deep drag from his cigarette.

Shera quickly came into the doorway and snatched the stoge. Breaking it in two, she pointed a finger at the uncouth pilot. The suddenly strong willed Shera was a change that Cid was far from getting used to. "No smoking in my house," she declared.

"This is my house woman!" Cid shouted.

"I clean it, I sleep in it, I make the payments on it, I stock it with food!" the female engineer shot back. Puffing out her chest, she just dared him to refute. With no blame weighing her down any more, she felt free to be herself. The only trouble was, somewhere along the way, she'd fallen in love with the gruff man called 'The Captain', so she was sticking around for good.

"Dammit!" Cid shouted back, at a loss for a better remark. "My water's boiling," he mumbled, tearing back into the kitchen.

Aeris turned back to Tifa and Rufus. "That's his way of saying he's happy for you," she assured.

Barrett started laughing, though he didn't dare give words to his thoughts about Cid getting what was coming to him.

"I like Shera with a back bone," Yuffie declared while eying the particularly delicious looking cake in the center of the table.

The young eyes of Marlene wandered from face to face, wondering at the mindset of each person.

"Did they say they could make it?" Nanaki questioned.

Crossing his arms, Barrett stated, "They'll be here."

"Yeah, after having hot steamy-" Yuffie never managed to finish for the large hand clamped over her mouth.

"Marlene," Barrett began in an instructing manner, "Never listen to anything Yuffie tells you."

* * *

"We'll be late," Vincent whispered.

Only half listening, Cloud mumbled an affirmative, "Nnh"

They'd made it as far as the living room in their expansive home in the Woodlands. Isolated and vast, it was perfect to train together, among other things. Now, however, without any threat of unexpected visitors, they were having trouble managing to not become prisoners of their unbidden lust for each other.

Cloud trailed nibbling kisses along an already thoroughly marked up chest. "You said we had time," the blond swordsman mumbled absently, his mind focused on the delicious body before his eyes, not some dinner a whole continent away.

"I said we had time for one go, not four," the gunman tried again. However, his hints to get dressed and hurry off to the celebration party were countered by his actions, as he arched into the teasing mouth at an exposed nipple.

"Ancients above you're beautiful," the spiky blond hissed out deeply. His hair was in disarray, but the raven strands he'd been continually running his hands through weren't in much better shape.

Panting a bit under the intense gaze of those Mako blue eyes, Vincent relented to his younger counter part's wishes. "You'll be the death of me."

With a smirk, Cloud dragged his naked body along an equally naked pale beauty beneath him. Leaning up, he thankfully pressed his lips to pout bowed ones. Though attempting to take it slowly, keeping the general drawn out pace they usually carried, the gunman writhed impatiently.

"Fuck me already," Vincent hissed. The never ending supply of sexual energy Cloud seemed to have would truly be the death of him one of these days. As it was, he found logical reason in writing it off as stamina training. Of course, that was not even close to being the reason for why he always gave in and returned equally fevered and lustful feelings.

"Say it," Cloud urged.

Crimson eyes peeked through slits as the pale man threw his head back at the direct fondling to a very touch sensitive region. "I love you," he spoke softly, managing to impress a million promises and meaning into the simple phrase even through his aroused daze.

Cloud would never tire of hearing those words spoken so smoothly from those soft lips. Lightly pressing his lips against the gunman's he returned the sentiment, "I love you too."

Quickly following the pleased smile, which Vincent had yet to refrain from forming each time the blond spoke his vow of endearment, the red-eyed fighter bucked upwards. Wrapping his arms around the younger man's neck, he leaned up and tongued the swordsman's ear. Biting the lobe, he whispered, "Fuck me already."

"As you wish," Cloud complied. Mentally he checked that this would be a future record to break. Five rounds of heated sex in a row. It was a record he'd be more than happy to work on breaking.

* * *

"Goodness, what took you guys so long?" Aeris questioned in the closest tone of berating that she'd ever be able to carry.

"Technical difficulties," Cloud supplied unconvincingly.

At the less than enthused stares everyone sent their way, Vincent scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"What?" Yuffie questioned the use of what technical difficulties could mean. "Cloud couldn't get it up?"

"Say, Marlene, are you feeling tired?" Barrett asked his daughter after throwing a harsh glare to the corrupted ninja.

Blushing, Vincent ignored the girl's comment. Mumbling just loud enough for the blond swordsman to hear, the gunman said, "Technically, he's a horn dog."

"Damn straight beautiful," Cloud retorted, clapping a hand to Vincent's ass before caressing his way to simply setting his hand around the other's slim waist. Guiding the gunman in further, they sat beside each other.

Though the food had gone a bit cold, the group could finally begin. There was no more questioning as to where the couple had been.

A/N Ok, I wrote an epilogue. I'm no more content with the slight extension than I was with my previous ending, but I don't think it hurts the story either. Since I wrote it, I might as well include it. So everyone has their own lives. Tifa and Rufus (what a shocker!), Cloud and Vincent, hints about Shera and Cid, Barrett and Marlene, Yuffie back in Wutai and sometimes in the bar, Nanaki/Red XIII in Cosmo Canyon, and Aeris with her school. I thought it'd be too clichéd to have some summary of each person in their own place. Besides, I started it with them being together, minus a few extra peeps, so I'm ending it with them together.

Thanks to all my reviewers. You guys seriously give me so much motivation and encouragement to keep writing!


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